Sacrifices
by EvelMyst
Summary: Prejudice has always been hard to break It s hard for people to see past the monster they see you as to the human you know you are In a world divided Nick and Greg s worlds collide Will They put aside their preconceived doubts NG AU MPreg
1. A Dark and Stormy Night

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**Sacrifices**

An_Evel_ Story

**Rated** M for Mature

**Pairing:** Nick Stokes/Greg Sanders

_**Warnings **_ Slash, Mpreg, graphic violence, rape/non-con, character death, language, incest, and generally dark themes that are not for the faint of heart. i u If you don't like this, I would suggest that you turn back now

**Summary:** Nick was born a Normal and had the world handed to him upon his birth. Greg was born a Maternal into a world of Normals trying to kill him because he was born different from what society accepts as normal. In a world divided these two lives will collide teaching one to re-evaluate his beliefs and the other to trust. However prejudice is hard to break. It is hard to make people see past the monster they believe you are to see the human you know you are.

** This is a dark fic, it does have some bright spots. This story contains MPreg and other generally dark themes that some people might find objectionable.**

**Disclaimer** I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

NOTES: Please be kind and reply. they mean the world. I promise I won't bite.

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Chapter One:

A Dark and Stormy Night

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**(A recollection of May 2, 1975)**

**Ryan**** Sanders's point of view**

My story begins on a dark and stormy night down in the outskirts of the town widely considered the wrong side of the tracks. It was in one of the poorest slums in the country at the time. The place stretched on for miles. My life long friend didn't want children. However, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Being a ternny in those days was about the same as being a dog. Only, dogs had more rights than we did. Jon being a legit, he could have anyone he chose to be with, and he chose to sleep with my friend Greg. He tied him up and he boned him hard up the ass. He said he wanted to show him his place in the world, and he did.

It was late when my best friend called me. His voice strained, riddled with the pains of labour. "I'll be right there," I hung up the phone and rushed to the car.

It took me no time at all to get to the decrepit old building where he lived. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. Forget that the place was nearly falling to pieces under my feet. Barging through the door, I saw him lying on the floor by the phone grasping his swollen belly.

"Ryan, it's time," Greg called out to me. I hoisted him up to the bed, and placed him in position to have the baby. Tears rolled from his cheeks. He screamed as another strong contraction took him.

I feared for my friend. It was only seven months ago that Jon raped him. Seven months is not enough time to deliver a baby. The baby's not ready to face this world. The world's not ready to have another ternny join it.

"I'm here," I clutched his hand squeezing it hard. He returned the squeeze with equal pressure.

When he first told me about his condition, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I had no idea he was a ternny. That was the night I established where my loyalties lie. I could either never see him again, or I could also have to face the penalties for giving aid and comfort to a known enemy of the nation.

"What should we do?" I asked nervously. I had never delivered a baby before. I don't know the first thing about delivering them.

"Called my dad, he should be here shortly," he answered breath strained as another contraction hit him.

I wished I could help him, but I could do little for him. He screamed again, and I squeezed his hand harder.

"Ryan?" His voice grew faint.

"I'm here," I attempted to comfort him.

"Do you think I'm a freak?"

At one point, I would have called him weird, psychotic, and yes even a freak. However, the more time I spent with him the more I opened my eyes and saw that he was just as human as anyone else in this world.

"No, Greg, you're not a freak," I answered confidently.

His father should've been here an hour ago. Now, I'm afraid he's not going to make it. His face was so pale it was nearly white.

"You've been a great friend, Ryan," his eyes winced in pain. Tears spurted from his eyes, and his breath was ragged. "Take care of him, will ya?"

"You know I will," I assured him.

"Keep him safe, and make sure no one finds out."

I held his hand tight, I dared not let go even for a second. I wasn't going to abandon him, not now, not ever.

His face was ghostly white, something was definitely wrong. For months now he's been weak, I'm surprised he hasn't miscarried. Still, seven months in and he's in labour. There was definitely something wrong. He's gone into labour much too soon.

"No, you will not do that," I cried out. "You will be there with him. You will see him grow up to be big and strong. To have a wife and a child of his own," I urged. "Greg, I can't do this without you," I brushed a stray tear from my face.

"I don't know if I have the strength," he whispered weakly.

"Greg, please, hold tough. Please, for me."

His condition continued to diminish even as I held him in my arms. We stayed like that for what seemed like hours.

"You've been a good friend," he breathed roughly. "More than anything, take care of him, love him, protect him, and let him know about me."

"Please, Greg. You are going to make it, please don't give up on me."

He can't be dying. He can't be, I won't let him, but even as I plead with God not to take him, his eyes shut. I pulled him close to my body, as his breathing became erratic and then stopped all together. I just held him crying. I knew I couldn't wait too long, as much as I hate it. I still have a promise to fulfill.

Reluctantly, I took a medium-sized hunting knife and placed it against his swollen belly. Tears poured from my eyes. I knew what I had to do, but I just couldn't do it not even to save his son's life. My eyes clinched shut. I brought the knife to his gut, my hand shaking uncontrollably. That was when the door opened.

"I'm here," Greg's father, Mr. Olaf Hojem announced. "Sorry, I'm late. The bounty hunters found me. I think I lost them."

That was the one thing that I did not want to hear. It was worse enough I was witnessing my best friend die in this rough labour. I don't think I could survive the bounties as well. The fear in the old man's face, I knew it was true and he only just lost them. If they followed him here, then they'd know I was giving aid and comfort to an enemy of the state. My life was now forfeit. I am to spend the rest of my life in exile.

He took two steps in and stopped dead in his tracks. There was his son lying dead and me helpless to do anything to remove the baby from his corpse.

"Son, what's going on?" he asked, concern weighed heavy on his voice.

"I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't," I yammered out repeatedly.

His gentle hand covered mine steadying the quivering blade. I leaned into his embrace and just cried.

"It'll be all right son," he comforted me. "Is he born?"

I shook my head 'no'.

"We need to get the baby out of him or his life was for not," Mr. Hojem reasoned.

"I can't do it," I cried.

"You're gonna have to," he stated firmly.

"I don't know how."

Slowly, he took the knife from my hand and placed it against Greg's belly. Steadily, he cut into the delicate skin until he made a deep incision.

"Go ahead," he nodded for me to retrieve the baby boy from within. His body was still so warm and I found the baby without trouble. But I noticed something odd when I reached in. It wasn't just one baby within his womb. There was another.

I pulled the first one from his dead body. He was a beautiful boy, healthy and he cried loudly once his nose was cleared. The second, was smaller, slightly under developed, and was silent. I placed my hand over his chest, and was surprised to feel the faintest of heartbeats.

"We have to get this one to the hospital. He's dying."

"What will you tell them?" Mr. Hojem asked.

"The truth," the other man raised his eyebrow. "His mother died during child birth."

When we got to the hospital, they nearly gave us the third degree about his parentage. They even wanted to take a peak at my stomach to make certain that I did not carry the mark. They were pleased to see that I did not carry the unquestionable mark of my fatherhood and agreed to treat the baby.

The receptionist gave me a whole slew of questionnaires to fill out. I took a seat with Mr. Hojem by my side. 'Mother's name:' I thought on the first question before answering: 'Virginia Hojem'. I looked over to Mr. Hojem and he looked appreciative of the name I have given his son. 'Father's name: Ryan Sanders', I wrote down, again with an approving nod from Mr. Hojem. 'Child's name:' This one I really had to think about what I called him.

"Well?" Mr. Hojem asked.

So, I wrote down the only name I could think of for this little boy, 'Gregory Hojem Sanders'.

"I like it," proclaimed Mr. Hojem.

"Really? You don't mind that I gave my own last name?"

"You had to. You listed yourself as the father. It was very noble of you to name the boy after my son," he smiled and ruffled my hair.

"What do I do with them?"

"Give me the healthy one, and I will drop him off at the orphanage." I turned to him sharply not wanting to give up either of these boys.

"But…" I tried to protest.

"It will be for the best. No one has to know his parentage. The boy will be free to go to school outside the restrictions the government must place upon him. Don't you see… it's for the best that we hand him over anonymously."

I know it was the best I could hope for with the stronger one. Maybe this way he will have a normal life. The life I know that won't befall, little Gregory Hojem Sanders. I haven't the heart to give him up.

I nod to Mr. Hojem and he left the room.

Hours passed and there was no word on the little boy my friend delivered. I could cut the tension with a knife. Then, the nurse reappeared some time later. "Are you the boy's father?" I nodded in response. "Please, come with me."

I may not be this child's father, but I might as well be. The boy has no one else. I could always hand the boy over to his true father, but I would die before I'd let such an innocent sweet boy go to a person like Jon.

The nurse took me back through the double doors, down the narrow corridor. The place was well-lit but completely absent of any colour save white. Of course, that is only if you consider white to be a colour.

"Just in here," the nurse guided me to the room. Incubators lined the room and at the far corner there sat one with the name, Gregory Hojem Sanders. I approached the tiny bed to see the baby, pale white connected to just about every device a person can be connected to. It broke my heart to see this baby boy this way. At this moment, I knew that I wouldn't be handing him over. He would live with me. I know it wouldn't be much of a life. If it is true and the bounty hunters really are after me.

The baby was precious, innocent by all means. It is hard to believe or even to imagine that an act of cruelty created him. I still remember that day. Greg came to me with tears rolling down his face. He did not know what to do or even how to have this baby. From that day on I took him under my wing, I made it a point to learn everything I could about maternal male births.

Now, the face of innocence lies before my eyes and I can see his purpose in life. It will be I who keeps him save, to hold his hand to teach him right from wrong and about his father, the man who brought him into this world. I will make sure he knows about his brother, the one he would never remember. I must lead him through this life. It is my duty to Gregory Hojem and my honour.

I could have gazed upon that boy for hours. However, my time with him was short. There was much to be done and a short time to get there. The bounties were after us, and I was his only line of protection.

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To Be Continued... 


	2. What Tomorrow Holds

**Sacrifices**

An_ Evel _Story

(Warnings and summary will be on the first chapter only... from now on... thanks, Evel)

** Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

* * *

Chapter Two:

What tomorrow Holds

* * *

**(February 2, 1986 10 years of age)**

**Greg**** Sanders's point of view**

_In a Shanty Town near San Francisco_

I shivered near violently in the bitter cold, wrapped the tattered blanket, I pulled it tighter around me, but it made no difference. I sat there on the street watching the norms driving by in their expensive cars. They come by every night. I'm quite used to it by now. Every now and then one will stop point to one of us and we get into their cars, they take them to some cheep motel room and have their way with us.

When I say they have their way with us, I mean whatever they want we must give. Sometimes, they want to fuck us and kill us. At least one of us goes missing a night to be seen later in a ditch with their bodies mutilated. So far, I've been lucky not to run across one of them kind. Ryan believes they are bounties bottom feeding again. Here we're all contained in a fish bowl. Its easy pickings for them, you might say.

There seems to be a lot of norms driving around tonight. One of them points to me and I get in the car. I say not a word to him. He looks decent enough. I sit there in the back of his car my eyes downcast. It is not polite to look them in the eye. I am not as human as he, because he is normal and I am maternal.

He took me to the motel most people take me. The place is a dive. You practically have to wear a flea collar there for amount the fleas jumping over floor. He lay me down in bed and does his thing to me. It wasn't bad tonight. The man was gentle with me. Usually, the people are rough with the terrnys they bring in these rooms. This guy seemed nearly compassionate though. Perhaps it was that I am a child and he chooses to take me gentler than he would a fully grown man.

I take it without question without sound. From an early age I learned that it is best to keep control of the sound. No one wants another person to know they're screwing one of the monsters. He unties me and dresses me. Usually, they just leave for us to go back to the shanty town and to huddle around our fires. This man seemed compelled to clean me of his bodily fluids and to dress me.

"Do you need a lift?" he asked. I lifted my head finally given permission to see the man. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and dark brown hair and deep blue eyes.

"That's all right, I can manage," I told him weakly and walked out the door.

This night seemed to be bitterly cold. Steam rose from the streets, the freaks were huddled around fires burning hot in the barrels.

"Evenin' Greg," one waved to me. I never replied to them. The freaks were even worse than the norms. They'd wave to you to indicate their interest in you. I never responded. To respond was to show I was equally as interested. I was not.

Three doors down and to the left on Maple Street, the second on the right was the hovel we stayed in. It was an old bungalow style house, but it's seen better days. The wood panels were falling off the side, the brick cracked as the foundation shifted from the previous earthquake. I walked through the door to find Ryan laying in his bed still looking clammy as ever.

"You must be freezing," he came to me and wrapped his blanket around my thin body.

"Thanks," I muttered and accepted the blanket.

"Things go all right for you?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Things went all right. I was chosen tonight."

Ryan hated to hear how the norms used me for their sexual pleasure. However it is the only way we can keep in the house. Conquests here were as good as money. Back when I was young, he went out every night picked and attracted the best norms around. That earned him this house. Now, he was weak and sick all the time, the only way we can keep the place is if I go in his place. Ryan hated that I had to do this. He hated that he was unable to provide for us.

"The man was gentle with me, it was nice," I recollected.

"That's good," muttered Ryan. "That why you're home so early?"

"Yeah," I answered.

Normally, I would be on the sidewalk picking up norms, they'd bring me back to the motel and fuck the living day lights out of me. I've gotten used to it over the years. I was five when I lost my virginity. It wasn't even to one of those fuckers, but to my kindergarten teacher.

Ryan was pissed when he found out. He took me from that school and began teaching me himself. I loved to learn, it was the best part of my day when we'd sit down and he'd teach me all about history, mathematics, reading, writing, and best of all science. I could never learn enough about science. I know it was pointless to learn these subjects. I could never use them. After all, to the world I'm nothing but a monster good for some norms sexual pleasure.

I've been going out on the street since I was seven and a half. That's when Ryan became so sick. The first one to take me to that motel was hard in me. He ripped me apart literally, it hurt so bad. He forced me to do things to him that I never wanted to do again. However, I couldn't argue, or reject him he was a norm, he had rights and I had none. I was a dog in his eyes where my only purpose is to serve my master.

"I wish I could do better by you," his voice was barely a whisper. His eyes were sad, but they were always sad when they gazed upon me. I can see the disgust on his face and the sincere guilt he carries. He hates that I go out and let those people fuck me just so he can stay in that bed. He feels horrible about that I can tell.

"Don't worry about it," I said feebly. "You're doing the best you can. We all are."

"I still should have done better by you," he said apologetically.

The months pass and things remained the same. Ryan got a little bit better and started perusing the streets again. His first suitor out really tore him up though. The man got off on blood. He was a mess. He staggered back into the hovel and I cleansed his wounds. He didn't let out a sound the entire time, but I knew they must have hurt.

The weather warmed as my 10th birthday approached. Ryan was feeling guiltier than ever that day. He paced the hovel back and forth. He did this every time I celebrated a birthday. Each time he always wanted to get me some lavish gift but all he could afford was soggy cupcakes that tasted like feet.

"Happy birthday," he wished me and handed me the cupcake. I blew out the candle and made my wish. "I wish I had something better to give you."

"It's perfect," I assured him. "I like my cupcakes," I lied.

"You should have more than cupcakes on your tenth birthday. You should be with all your friends blowing out ten candles on a real birthday cake and not one of these fifty cent cakes they sell at the quicky mart."

"It's fine really," I tried to assure him, but he wouldn't believe me. "It's perfect."

"Greg, this is a far cry from perfection. You should be out playing with your dog or racing snowmobiles. You should have so much more than this slum life, hunted for something you had no control over."

"It doesn't matter, dad, I have you," I continued. I usually don't call him dad. Normally, I call him Ryan. He's told me since the first days I could remember that he wasn't my daddy. However to me he will always be my dad. After all, he's the only person I have.

"What do you want for your birthday?" he asked.

"I want a lot of things," I answered softly. "I want to play with my dog, I want a cat, to see Metallica, but dad it doesn't matter anymore."

"There must be something I can get for you."

"The only thing I want is you," I spared him a brief look. Tears streamed down his face. I've only seen him cry on a few rare occasions of my life and each time I wished that I hadn't.

"Dad," I pulled myself close to him. There's little I could do to comfort him, but I try. "I love you. I know things haven't been easy for you, but please, don't cry."

"I'm sorry son, I just… need some air." I watched as he stood up and pulled on his tattered coat.

"Don't go," I urged him not to leave. I hate being left here on my own. I hate the people around me I don't trust them. They're all as honourable as thieves. Most of them, sex-deprived men and by the way they eyed me, I knew they wanted to nail me to the ground. When he leaves I feel vulnerable and helpless.

I crawled up on the dresser with my knees drawn to my chest. Hours passed and he still hadn't returned. I wasn't worried about his lengthy absence. He's been on long walks before and he always returned.

The door of the hovel slammed shut. I lifted my head from my knees anticipating my dad's arrival, but instead I see the well-dressed man who escorted me months ago. With how many times I've been to that dingy motel, you would think that I would forget about the men who fucked me. I don't though. I remember each one with perfect clarity. I especially remember him, because he was so gentle with me.

"Looks like someone stepped into the wrong side of town," snarled Jacob emphasizing his point with is fist to his hand. Oh, he was ready to beat the living shit out of this normmy. "It's not bad enough you have to go screw us into the night but now you're shopping within our homes?" He spoke with such vocation. There was no doubt he meant every word he spoke.

"Back off, will ya," grumbled Charles.

There was something different about his eyes. They were almost fearful. Perhaps it was the company, or maybe it was the place. He wasn't his usual self and that was clear to me.

"Can anyone help me?" He asked. "My car… it… it broke down…"

"Sorry, sir, ain't no one here able to get a car," Charles answered, his voice too was riddled with venomous hatred.

He stood there without a clue. Desperate, yeah, he was desperate and that came about him real fast. It was plain to see in those blue eyes of his. I remember them the most. When we fucked he looked me in the eye almost to say he didn't want this. Perhaps he didn't want it, but he still fucked me.

I look around the room, the live-ins were nearly up in arms. The civil war was about to break out within this bungalow.

"I'll help you," I called out surprising myself. Honestly, I don't know what got into me. Normally, when Dad's out I am too fearful to move my little finger. Today, I am willing to crawl off my shelf and help out this near stranger.

His blue eyes focused on me. At first he was a bit sceptical, but that quickly vanished when I walked out of the house with him.

"I remember you," I said calmly. "You were real gentle with me." He gazed at me not seeing who I was.

Then, his face changed and I could tell he finally placed the pieces together. "I thought you looked familiar. I didn't hurt you too much did I?"

"No, no you never hurt me," I replied. "In fact, you're the first person who didn't hurt me."

"Good to hear," he stated. His cheeks flushed bright red, perhaps out of embarrassment. It was obvious he wasn't attracted to me, which so many norms are for whatever reason. They say I have pretty eyes. "You know I didn't want to fuck you," he stated casually.

His eyes gazed down hiding the disgust that covered his face. It struck me that this man honestly regretted his actions. It wasn't everyday that I found someone who gives a shit about a monster.

"I know this doesn't make it better, but the only reason I was even here was because my friends forced me. They said I haven't been properly laid until I did a t…"

"It's all right you can call a spade a spade," I diverted my eyes.

"No, it's a derogatory name and I shouldn't bite the hand that's feeding me," he said calmly. "They drove me out there and told me that I should find the best looking one and fuck them silly. Most of them looked horrible. I'm not sure I would want touch them with a ten-foot pole…"

"Wouldn't blame you there," I chuckled.

"Then, I saw you sitting on the sidewalk. And I decided that you were it. I had no idea you were just a kid until you climbed in the car. My friends wouldn't let me get out of it, so to my shame I… screwed you. You know the entire time I was fucking you I thought I was hurting you."

"It was good. It was the best fuck I've had. It almost felt as though you loved me."

"I shouldn't have though," he said remorsefully.

"Is that why you came back? To say you're sorry to me?"

"Yeah, well that's why I was here. I've been coming once a week since that night searching for you. I found you once, but you got in another car. I haven't stopped looking for you, because I'm ashamed of how I acted."

"Don't worry about it," I attempted to assure him. Granted it did little good. "You were the best out of all the escorts I've been with."

He said not another word to me about our previous encounter. He apparently said what he needed to say and that was it.

His car was a nice car, Mercedes Benz. I remember, it was a smooth ride, but it was fairly new and shouldn't be broken down on the side of the road. I found this particularly peculiar. So I popped the hood and had a peak inside. Sure enough, steam emerged from the engine. It was just what I expected he had a busted radiator.

"You obviously have money, so why didn't you just call a tow truck?" I asked uncapping the radiator.

"Ever have one of those days that everything goes wrong?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"That's the kind of day I'm having," he paused and sighed. "What's your name anyways?"

"Greg," I answered. "But my dad calls me Munk."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Greg," he extended his hand. "This is how our introduction should have been," he smiled. "My name's Robbie."

"Nice to meet you," I shut the hood and shook my head. "Well, Robbie your radiator's shot. Has a nice quarter-sized hole at the bottom."

"I suspected as much," he sighed. "What's a kid like you doing in a slum like this?"

"I guess norms think I'm nothing but a monster only capable of pleasing their sexual needs."

I apologize for not being able to help him more. I really wished I could. He understood and offered to walk me home saying these streets looked dangerous. I tried to tell him I've spent my entire life out on these streets, but he still refused to allow me to walk home alone.

We arrived at our hovel to find out stuff tossed out the bedroom window. Apparently, my act of compassion cost us our home.

Robbie turned his head. There was a scuffle in the background. It sounded as though it was a flurry of people.

"What's that?" asked Robbie. He turned his head toward the sound of the blood hurdling scream. Instantly, I knew they just didn't kick us out. It was Ryan. My heart sank as another scream filled the night air.

"I have to go," I said and ran down to the alleyway. There stood a swarm of bounties around dad. He was rendered to his knees and begging for mercy. Apparently, the house kicked us out after the bounties showed up at our doorstep. We've overstayed our welcome and now it might cost us our lives.

He begged mercilessly. But his pleas fell upon deaf ears.

"DAD!" I yelled as a great noise boomed through the alleyway, and the hot lead broke through his skin sending his body tumbling lifelessly to the ground. I ran to him as fast as I could and held his lifeless head in my head. Tears poured from my eyes. I couldn't believe the only person I have in the world is dead. I wouldn't believe it. Everything I ever cared about was lying lifeless in my arms.

I heard the click of the gun behind my head. Their sites were set upon me. At that point, I didn't care if they pulled the trigger.

"STOP!" A voice shouted down the alleyway. "Please, don't shoot this kid," the man pleaded for my life.

"Why the fuck not? He's one of them mutant freaks."

"He's also a person, a human being," Robbie defended.

"He's no more human than a devil," the man snarled at me. "Uncle Sam wants him dead. He has a fifteen million dollar bounty upon his head if we deliver his remains to the pentagon."

"I don't give a damn how much the bounty on him. He did nothing more than live. Where's the crime in that? What did he do wrong?"

"He's an abomination to mankind. He doesn't deserve to live. Look at him, he's a weak snivelling little monster."

"He doesn't deserve to die either." I don't know why Robbie continues to argue for my life. There was no winning against these vile men. Why won't he just let me die and remove myself from this miserable existence? They were sent here to find me and they have and now all they have to do is to pull the trigger. "Let me have him, I will take care of him."

"Senator?"

"I will not allow you to take this boy's life."

"And my superiors? What do I tell them?"

"Tell him that you didn't find the boy. If I ever, EVER see you holding a gun to his head again, I will personally make sure that you are dishonourably discharged. Do you understand me, soldier?"

"Sir," he answered. I could hear them lowering their guns and walking away. A silence ensued. It was deafening. The man lowered next to me, I finally saw that it was Robbie fighting for my life.

"What's going to happen now?" I asked him desperately. "Where do I go?"

"I'm taking you home, to my place. I'm going to see about adopting you."

"They won't allow it," I whimpered.

"On the contrary," Robbie smiled. "A few years back, the senate passed a law declaring that a child of any status has a right to be a child as you might say. They were deemed incapable of survival and for that reason alone they will allow a child such as yourself to be placed in a home like mine. Well, under the stipulation of course that you do not have a living relative capable of providing for you." He smiled.

"Are you really a senator?" I asked.

"No," he answered giving a hearty chuckle. "I just happen to look like the senator. It does come in handy to be a doppelganger of the California Senator, though."

"I can imagine," I tear myself away from Ryan, the man who's taken care of me for my entire life. "Who will protect me now? Will you protect me?" I cried into his chest.

"Yes, Greg, I will protect you with my life. I promise," he cooed into my ear so softly and love-filled.

"What about him?" I nodded over to Ryan's body.

"Don't worry about that, I will have it taken care of."

He hugged me tightly and perhaps for the first time in my life I felt safe and loved. Robbie was a good man. I knew he would take care of me. If he treated me as decent as he did fucking me, I am certain he'd treat me even better as a son.

Robbie took me in his arms, cradling my body and took me away from that awful place.

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To Be Continued... PS... I enjoy reading your reviews, thanks to those who have taken the time to leave me feedback. 


	3. Wish you were here

**Sacrifices  
**An _Evel_ Story  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

* * *

Chapter Three:  
Wish You Were Here

* * *

**(May 3, 1986 10 years of age)  
****Greg**** Sanders's point of view**  
Robbie and Katie Baker's House

* * *

Robbie didn't stop walking until we were well out of the shantytown. Even then, my legs were still too weak to carry my weight. The world seemed to collapse around me. The thing I cared most about removed from this world.

Early in the morning, we arrived at the crossroads. That's what we call the road separating the slums from the rest of the world. Robbie carried me up to the station and muttered something in my ear. I didn't quite understand. He set me down on the curb, my body instantly curled into a ball. He went to the phone, and spoke loudly to an unknown person. Everyting moved in slow motion, yet blurred together in one long tormenting memory with the individual events lost.

He came to me, took me by the hand and mentioned something about my body's shaking.

"My wife should be here soon," I vaguely understood. "Hang tough."

Robbie sat next to me and placed my head in his lap. His fingers gently combed through my hair as he hummed a soothing tune. I couldn't sleep though. The events were still too fresh in my head. The night replayed over and over in as though it were one endless movie reel tormenting my soul.

His wife was a very beautiful woman and I wondered why he ever cheated on her with a guy like me? Stupidity and booze were behind it I suppose.

Along the way, Robbie and his wife made small talk. I don't know what they were talking about and nor did I care. My body was numb to the world, as the shock of Ryan's sudden passing sank into my soul.

It took several hours to arrive at Robbie's place. Once we arrived, he took me into his arms and carried me in.

Gnetly, he carried me upstairs and placed me on a bed where he handed me a glass of milk tainted with a sedative.

"This will help you sleep better," he said and set a blanket on the bed. "If you need anything don't be afraid to holler. Oh, we have another adopted daughter, Sara Sidle so if you hear anything it might be her."

I nod to him and he left the room leaving the door slightly opened. The milk calmed my nerves a bit, but it didn't put me to sleep. I'm wide-awake staring aimlessly at the ceiling.

By the time afternoon came, the house was bustling with life, but I lye motionless in bed unable to move a muscle. My face stained with tears and I had no way of stopping them. I couldn't if I tried. Robbie walked in several times and asked if I need to talk about it. I shook my head, 'no' and he would leave the room. I couldn't talk to him. I'm not ready to talk to anyone about what happened on my birthday. My entire world stopped moving, frozen in time. My life is virtually gone, broken into a thousand pieces lying dead on the blood-riddled ground.

I look down at my hands, still covered in Ryan's blood. The image makes me want to puke. I want to wash his blood from my hands, but I haven't the strength. I thought I knew what pain was, living in that place, in those conditions. However, I had no idea that I could hurt this badly. It hurt to breathe, hell it hurt to exist and there wasn't anything anyone could to comfort me.

Sure, they said everything will be all right, but deep down I knew nothing was ever going to be the same again. Deep down, I knew that the world as I knew it had changed forever the moment Ryan's heart stopped beating.

As the day wore on, the house became stagnated and silent as the residents fell asleep one by one. Briefly, I heard Sara talking on the phone as though she were talking to a lover. But as the hours passed that too died away and again I felt truly alone.

I know that if I needed someone to be with me, Robbie was just down the hall. He'd be more than happy to help me through this. However, this is something I feel I should do on my own. I have to learn how to live without Ryan. Without my safety net to protect me down this rocky road.

My body shook and tears continued to pour from my eyes. I try to sleep, but these wounds are too deep and too fresh for my shattered heart to find peace. For hours, I listened to the crickets interrupting the otherwise silent house. It was three o'clock in the morning and my heart is restless. I feel like I should do something, but I don't know what.

I cracked the door open, all the lights were shut off. Slowly, I walked down the hall to the bathroom and leaned over the sink. Looking myself in the eye, I can see the pain clearly written on my face. I turn the faucet on and scrub the dried blood from my hands, but the blood doesn't come off. I strip out of my clothes and step in the shower, turning the water all the way hot. The spray stings as it washes over my shoulders and the only thing I can think is at least I can feel something other than this emotional pain that's consumed my soul.

I scrub my body hard, nearly violently, as I scratched myself to the point of bleeding. Once I've drained the hot water heater I turned the spray off and wrapped a towel around myself. Several angry red marks already appear over my skin and I'm surprised there weren't a few blisters to join them.

I dried myself off, but it's still not enough. It's four now, and I still feel like I need to do something. The memories are too painful for me not to do something. I can't sit still, but I can't seem to be able to move on either. Ryan gave so much to me that it is killing me to know that he's gone. Killing me to know that I will not have him by my side, to see me grow big and strong and to tell me silly stories about daddy Greg.

I remembered the stupid little things he'd do for me. How he'd hold my hand as I learned to wall. How he dabbed Neosporin on my scrapped knee when I was learning how to ride my bike without the training wheels. How he taught me history, math, science, and english. Most of all, I will always remember how he never left my side. It brings tears to my eyes to know that I will have to go through the rest of my life without him on my side.

Once get downstairs I found a tall stack of boxes of stuff that used to belong to him. I pulled the first one off the stack and dug through it, to find my tattered clothes. I place the lid back over it and push it away, never wanting to see those rags again. The next box was full of trinkets of Ryan's. Tears roll from my eyes when I find the coin Ryan used to wear. It was a silver half-dollar with the eagle cut out. Most of the contents of this box I will probably toss out, but I couldn't toss this out. It reminds me of Ryan and about all the good times and bad times we shared together.

I clasped the chain holding the coin around my neck vowing never to take it off. I cried harder as I sifted through our things tossing out a good lot of the junk and keeping only the things that meant the most to me. By the time I'm through with the box, my shirt is soaked with tears that I've cried.

By five o'clock the boxes were gone through and the trash thrown out. I looked around the place to see a fine layer of dust covering the well-varnished floors. I placed the last box in the garage, and took a rag from the kitchen and took some disinfectant from under the sink and began scrubbing the floors. On my hands and knees and scrubbed each plank of wood until it was pristine and perfect. One after another, I scrubbed the floor hard.

"Greg?" A sweet feminine voice called me. I couldn't even turn my head up to look at her. I don't know how to answer her. My world is shattered and I don't know how to fix it. I'm not certain it can. Honestly, I just want to die. Miserable, alone, so the hurt will go away. I don't want to hurt anymore.

"Greg, honey, are you all right?" She steps over to me walking on the panels I have just finished cleaning. I don't stop scrubbing. If I do, he will taunt me again. He'll break my heart again, I won't feel like I can breathe. I have to keep scrubbing it's the only way.

She knelt down beside me. The expression on her face tells me she can see how much pain I am in. She lifts my hands off the floor and gasps.

"You're bleeding."

"I don't care," I jerked free from her grasp and returned to scrubbing the hardwood floors. Tears continue to pour out of my eyes. I wish they'd stop coming, but I don't know if they'll ever stop.

"Greg," she protested, but I couldn't deal with it. I stood from the floor. I had to get away. I couldn't stay here and so I ran to the door.

"Greg, please, don't go," she begged. However, I was too far gone to care. I was too far gone to turn back. All I wanted to do was to find the nearest bridge and jump off it. When I found that bridge, I jumped from the ledge eager to end my miserable existence. When I hit the ground, I looked up at the sky to realize I had only fallen three and a half feet at the most.

"Greg!" she called for me franticly.

I leaned against the cement structure and brought my knees to my chest. I shut my eyes, and I swear I can almost feel him wrapping his loving arms around me. But I know it isn't him. It's impossible because he's dead. I can't stop crying. I'm miserable without him, but I will have to deal.

She climbed over the wall and joined me at the bottom of the drainage ditch. For a second I hope and pray that it's Ryan, but I know its not. I hope that this could be some bad joke, or a stupid trick, or perhaps this entire thing is just a bad dream and when I wake up, he'll be right by my side with that cheesy smile upon his face.

I want to believe that, I want to have it all be some bad dream or never ending nightmare. I want to wake up and find myself nestled into his arms because I was too afraid to sleep alone in my own bed.

She took a seat next to me careful not to touch me. She said not a word, but her concern was present and genuine. My entire body's shaking and I don't know how to stop it.

"I don't know if I can do this," I whispered to her.

"Shhh," she cooed, bringing her arms around me to hold me tight. "I know there's nothing in this world that's going to take away your hurt. I don't know if anything really can."

"I want to die," I muttered.

"Please, don't say that Greg, don't say that. I know it feels like the world's coming to an end right now, sweetie, but I promise you it will get better."

"And if it doesn't?"

"It will sweetie. It will," she cooed softly.

The next time I remember is waking up in my bed with Robbie sitting in the corner silently watching me.

"Katie was worried about you," he said softly.

"Leave me alone," I croaked out and rolling over. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to see anybody.

"I won't do that and you know it," he stood from the chair and walked over to my bed. "Greg, you have to get up, come on." He pushes me a little and when I don't budge, he simply pushed me off the bed.

"Why'd ya do that?" I protested.

"Because you wouldn't get up," he retorted smartly.

"Maybe I don't wanna get up, okay?"

"Tough," Robbie stole the blanket I just draped over my body.

"Robbie, gimme back my covers."

"No," he refused.

"Fine," I got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Quickly I do my business and wash my hands, splash some water on my face and turn back to the door. There stood Robbie, blocking the entryway.

"Get out of my way," I tried to push past him, but he wouldn't budge. "Get out, move," Tears spurted from my eyes.

"Nu-uh," he refused to get out of my way.

"Move," I said and tried harder to get past this man.

"No," he replied.

"Move."

"No."

I press harder and harder into him, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get past him. On my last feeble attempt, he placed his hands upon my shoulders. I tried to shake them off me but I hadn't the strength to do so.

"Lemme go," I protested weakly.

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," he stated.

"Why not?" I asked agrilly.

"Because you have to get cleaned up, because you have to go to court, because you have to be placed with a family."

"What if I don't want to go?" I finally broke free of his grasps.

"I know it hurts, Greg, not having him in your life any more. No one said this was going to be easy. However, that doesn't mean you shouldn't try to move on with your life. We have to get this custody hearings set up, Greg, you know that."

I do know that. I still don't want to go through. Going to that means that this entire event wasn't just some bad dream. The hearing means that Ryan really won't be walking through that door or sitting beside me when I wake.

"Greg, you should know, Katie and I, we're on your side, all right. We understand the loss you've suffered…"

Up until that point, I was teetering on the edge uncertain where the gavel might fall. Now the proverbial floodgates inside me have opened and the bitter raw emotions rush past me consuming me.

"Do you?" I shouted at him loudly. If people were asleep in this house, they weren't any longer. I see Katie standing at the door watching interestedly now. Her eyes were tired and sleep deprived. I know she's spent many hours looking over me and caring for me. I really appreciate her for that.

"I didn't see them shooting your father right in front of you. I didn't see them shoot that one person that meant everything to you. You don't know, so DON'T TELL ME YOU KNOW!" I shouted angrily. Tears pour from my eyes my body's physically shaking and there is no comfort they can give me.

I know I shouldn't have yelled at him. He hasn't done anything but help me and be there for me. However, I feel if I don't yell and let this poison out of me I will explode.

"Please, Greg, I'm only trying to help," he recons with me.

"I know, I know," I repeat softer.

"You're right, I don't know what it's like to have my father murdered in front of my face," he backed away. "However, that doesn't mean I don't know what it's like to hurt as you hurt now. I know you will never move on without taking this step. I know you will never be happy until you do learn how to move on with your life. I know it's difficult, but it is something that you have to do. But you won't have to go it alone."

"I won't?" I look at him completely confused.

"I will be there by your side every step of the way. I know I'm not your father, I won't pretend to be. I won't try to replace him."

I look at him with a newfound respect. I never thought I'd hear him say this to me. I never thought he'd step up to the plate, to the bat for me, the little monster.

"I know you miss him, and I know it hurts that he's not here with you. I can't make that go away, but I hope I can help you get past it so you can live your life again."

"I don't know who to continue my life. How can I just pick up and continue back where I was?" I cried.

"I wish I knew what to tell you, Greg. All I know is that if you never get back in that saddle, you won't ever get back in the saddle. You just won't know until you decide to step back up to that plate."

"Will you stay with me?"

"Always," he took me into his arms and held me tight. For the first time since my birthday, I felt safe and secure.

It was at that moment that I realized that Ryan had promised me the exact same thing several years ago. I couldn't believe I could remember that and I certainly wasn't expecting that to pop into my head at that moment.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up so we can give the judge a good impression of ya," he patted me on the back and lead me to the bathroom.

I raise my arms above my head and allow him to undress me. He pulled my shirt over my head and he turned on the shower. I look down my body and I can still see the blood staining my skin, though no one else could. He pushes my pants down and I step out of them, then he led me to the shower.

He placed me under the spray and all I can do is just stand there. I haven't the energy to move. At the moment, my world feels empty as a barren wasteland that is corroding my soul. Still, I can't believe he's gone.

After the soap is rinsed away, he pulled me from the shower and I just stand there and let him dry me off. Tears no longer pour down my face. My emotions, my physical being feel numb as though I had completely shut down. I feel nothing. I haven't the strength to feel anything any longer.

He dried me off, and wrapped the towel around my waist.

"Katie bought these for you last night. She thought they should fit you pretty well," Robbie said handing me a pile of clothes that included a new suit. Looking down at the neatly folded clothes, I realize that they were the first brand new clothes that I've ever had.

"She didn't have to," I said weakly.

"No, I suppose she didn't," Robbie agreed. "But it was the least we could do."

"Thank you."

I lifted my feet one by one and he pulled on my new boxer shorts, followed by the black slacks.

"We want to make a good impression, don't we?" I nodded approvingly. "You're a sweet boy."

"Why do you care so much?" I asked.

"Why shouldn't I care, Greg?" He asked an equally valid question. A question I didn't have an answer for. He pulled on the shirt, buttoned it up, and then began working on the tie.

Once he's finished I walked over to the full-length mirror and gazed at myself. Seeing myself in that mirror was a strange experience. For the first time I saw myself how others would see me. I could almost believe that I was a normal person instead of this monster. The only way I could describe it was if I were a stranger glancing upon me for the first time. I looked good, hell I looked fantastic. The suit Katie bought me fit perfectly, I looked like a well-kept child, and not someone who's been fucked by more guys than I can count. Robbie included. You could still see the hurt in my eyes though, and I doubt that will go away any time soon. However, seeing me there I felt as though I had some control, if only by a little bit.

"Are you two ready?" Katie walked in the room. "Wow, Greg, you look fantastic." She stood aghast.

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," I replied and give her a small, but truly genuine smile.

She stood back and gazed at me with a soft gaze. Walking past her I heard her whisper to Robbie, "It's hard to imagine the horrors this little boy has faced. I couldn't imagine."

I hope she never has to find out. Downstairs sat Sara, reading a crime novel. Every time I saw her it seemed like she was reading some new crime novel. She was a beautiful girl, tall with long dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. From the look of her, I could tell she too had a rough background.

I took a seat next to her and she watched my silently over her book. Her expression is near emotionless, but I can tell she's uncertain about me.

"Well, we better get going," Katie walked in the room.

"Is it all right is Gil comes over?" Sara asked excitedly.

"Yeah, that will be all right, but I don't want you taking that boy up to your room."

"Awe, mom," she pouted in protest.

We left for the courthouse, Robbie, Katie and I. On the way, they briefed me on the proper etiquette of the court proceedings. It was nothing I couldn't handle. Basically, I am to keep my eyes down, and my mouth shut unless asked a direct question by the court authority.

We go in front of the judge. Robbie and the judge have a bit of a conversation back and forth, they reach a decision and before I knew, it I was waiting in an examination room for a doctor who's now five minutes late.

"Morning, Mr. Gregory," he placed his bag on the stool. He didn't make any small talk, he got down and dirty right into the examination. He snapped pictures of my self-inflicted wounds. Then, went through every test and prod he could think of before drawing my blood, the part he really wanted. Then the man turned sharply on his heel and left the room.

Moment's later, a woman entered, wearing a white laboratory coat and sat down across from me a clipboard on her lap. She asked me questions that I was in no condition to answer. No offense, lady, but I'm really not in the mood to tell you the cliff notes version of what it's been like to live life as Gregory Hojem Sanders, the freak show at large.

I give her some fluff. It wasn't completely lies, just not completely the truth. She could see through me though, but she was decent enough not to call me out on it. She just hummed and wrote stuff on her clipboard about me.

"When did you lose your virginity?" she asked and that question completely derailed me. How did she know that I wasn't a virgin? Perhaps it was written on my face, or in my medical file, maybe, I can hope. "It is all right, Greg, you can answer me. You are illegitimate right?"

"That's right," I answered my voice weakened with fear.

"I am aware that there are some legitimates that believe that people like you are good only for sexual deviances and I know most people like you lose your virginity quite young."

"Five, I was five," I answered her question and she marked it down. She asked a series of questions, personal in nature, but ones that required honest answers. After she was done with her list of questions, a court orderly escorted me to a conference room where Robbie and Katie sat. They placed me not by their side but at the head of the table, as I was the subject of this meeting.

Four well-dressed men walked in and took a seat in the rest of the vacated chairs. They talk shop for a bit. Mostly, they talked about Robbie's home, his income and his eligibility to take on another child even though temporary.

"Mr. Baker, I see no reason why you can't support another child within your home. You have provided excellent conditions for Sara Sidle, the child currently at your residence. I don't see why you couldn't take care of one more."

"Thank you," Robbie replied.

Then their attention turned to me.

"What about the boy?" asked one.

"Physically, Gregory's healthy. He has some wounds on his knuckles, and some bruising, but nothing out of the ordinary. As far as I can tell, this child hasn't had as much as a broken bone. He has a bit of a cold that's all. We are still waiting for the STD results. We should have them in a few weeks."

It was no secret that illegitimates usually contract them. After all, strangers fuck our brains out and not all of them wear condoms.

"Very well," answered the lead person on this committee. That's the only thing I could call it. I had no better word for it. "How was his psychological evaluation?" he turned his head to the shrink. "And what is your recommendation for placement of this child."

She took a deep breath. "The boy's very intelligent, borderline genius if you ask me. The boy is scared to death, he's lonely and most of all grieving. I would avoid at all costs handing him over to a complete stranger. He needs someone he knows around him, because I think this boy is truly alone for the first time in his life and I think that scares the living daylights out of him. I think, we should take any changes that will happen in this boy's life at a slow pace. Right now, I think he's holding on by a thread and I think that anything radical might break the only thing keeping him from completely going ballistic."

"Duly noted," he wrote her recommendation down on the pad. "Does this include his father if one is found?"

"I believe it should. Any sudden changes might upset him to the point where we may lose him. His trust in people is very weak right now, and for the sake of this child I think he needs to be with people he knows."

"Very well," he wrote more about me down in that notebook. "After two months if we are unable to find a biological relative of the boy, he will become legally yours, Mr. Robbie Baker. You will bear full responsibility for him, including getting him registered as an illegitimate. I wish you the best of luck," he handed Robbie a certificate authorizing Robbie to adopt me.

"I wish you the best of luck," he said as he left the room. I never thought I could feel this happy again. At least not since Ryan died. However, I was truly happy to be returning to Robbie's home. There I know I will be kept safe and sound.

* * *

To Be Continued... Thanks to all who have replied... 


	4. Schoolhouse Blues

**Sacrifices**  
An**Evelmys** Story  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

* * *

**Chapter Three:**  
Schoolhouse Blues

* * *

**(July 3, 1986)  
Greg**** Sanders's point of view**  
Robbie and Katie Baker's House

* * *

I swear if I have to watch Sara sucking face with that Gil one more time I'm going to fucking puke. That's all they've done all summer long is hang out down here in the game room making out. It just makes me want to puke. How could two people be completely wrong for each other get along this well? It's not normal.

"Do you mind?" Sara finally broke away from Gil long enough to see me sitting here. Sometimes, I swear I prefer her when she's reading crime novels or listening to the police scanner she has stashed away in her room.

"Am I disturbing you?" I opened my chemistry book in some lame attempt at being just an innocent bystander.

"As a matter of fact… you are," she flipped her long brown locks over her shoulder. "Couldn't you take that disgusting old book and read it in your room."

"No," I answered firmly and stubbornly. "I was here first. Why can't you pretend to resuscitate Gil up in your room." I gesture to the stairs.

"You know Katie doesn't allow me to take boys to my room."

"Then take him to my room. Katie has no problem if I bring guys up there…"

"You will do no such thing," Katie walked in starring daggers at the two of us. "Gil, honey, I think it's time that you left."

I'm certain that Gil's a real nice person. Heck he must be if Sara trusts him enough to spend hours on the sofa sucking the air out of his lungs. He seems really intelligent, and definitely off kilter from the ordinary person. Definitely a nerd in general, complete with glasses.

He'll be back though. Most likely he will come back tomorrow tonight to watch the fireworks show with Sara. This time, I won't have to watch from the roof of that god-awful hovel. In some ways, life here with the Baker's is better, but in others, it's the worst time of my life. At least I knew after some normmy raped me I could return home to Ryan and he would take care of me.

"Well now you did it," she hissed at him and stormed out of the room.

"What's with her?" Katie asked.

"I guess she thought I read too loudly," I shrugged.

When Robbie got home, and things seemed to get even worse than Sara's bad mood. In his hand was official notification about my paternity test. The envelope in his hand was opened and the grave expression on his face told me the results were not what we hoped for.

He plopped down in the armchair with a sigh. His head leaned back against the rest and his eyes shut as though he was trying to forget about the cruelties of the world.

"They found my father, didn't they?" I choked out.

Robbie slowly nodded his head, 'yes' and I swore my heart about fell to my heels. I was hoping that I could stay in this home with Robbie and Katie. I don't know where I'd be right now without them standing by my side. He went on to say how they wouldn't place me immediately with Jonathan Jensen's family. The court would first have to look into him and then it would be a slow transition over to the new people. Certainly, I have the psychologist to thank for placing that condition in my file. I'm not sure I could handle moving directly in with the man Ryan claimed raped my father.

After he finished assuring me that, I wouldn't immediately have to move in with Jonathan Jensen, we began discussing my school situation. Since I won't be moving in with the Jensen's until after the first semester I will have to attend school again.

My heart sank when I heard those words come from his mouth. The last time I was at school my teacher fucked me while the rest of my class was outside playing for no other reason than I was an iggit. The thought of returning to school, honestly scared the living daylights out of me. Robbie assured me that I would not have to attend public school. I would have to attend a school with no state funding which meant he would have to fork over quite a good sum of money for my education.

Even though I was extremely frightened of attending school, at the same time I found myself excited to learn new subjects. I always loved to learn things. He informed me that I'd have my entrance examination in one week.

It didn't bother me any, because I was well educated on many subjects.

* * *

The fourth of July passed without further altercation between Sara and me. There wasn't much of a chance to be. Not with the way she kept dragging young Gilbert away and shoving her tongue down his throat. Well, I suppose it is better this way. At least I don't have to look at it.

Exactly a week after I learned my father was alive, Robbie drove me to a redbrick schoolhouse on the outskirts of town. The place looked like the traditional schoolhouse complete with a belfry. Down the centre stood a line of perspective students all appearing anxious for the examination to be concluded. Parents stood next to their children looking just as nervous.

Robbie stood right next to my side the entire time I waited to walk into the schoolhouse. Looking around, I could see that I am one of the smaller kids in the line and by the looks of it. Most of them had mothers and fathers standing at their sides.

"Robbie," I whispered. He leaned over close to me so he could hear. "This place does accept Maternals right?"

"Yeah, this place accepts both, I called ahead of time and made sure," he gave me a weak smile. I wasn't so sure, from what I could see, all these boys and girls were definitely normmys.

The headmistress stepped out of the double white doors and faced all the nervous children standing before her.

"Boys and girls, I would like to welcome you to Adolin's Academy for Gifted Youngsters. Parents are requested to wait for their child in the courtyard, food and beverages will be provided, children who are taking the entrance examination, please follow me."

"Good luck," Robbie wished me and I followed the herd of children into the large auditorium.

They placed the test in front of me and said some words about it. The kid next to me looked exceptionally nervous about the examination. It seemed like the longer she talked the more nervous people became. I wasn't nervous though. Ryan taught me well, and I am confident in my skills.

"You may begin," she informed us, and I opened my examination.

I found most of the math questions simple and answered them right away. Then I went onward to the science questions. Again, I answered them with little to no difficulty. Ryan was a smart man and he taught me well. The person next to me appeared to be struggling.

Within no time, I completed the test and handed it into the headmistress who informed me that I should have my results in eight day's time. I thanked her politely and walked out to the courtyard to find Robbie sitting on a bench under the tree. He sat there talking quietly with another parent.

"Munk," he called out to me. It surprised me a bit that he felt comfortable enough to use Ryan's nickname for me. But it dawned on me that its use didn't make me cringe or believe that he was taking over his place. In fact, I was somewhat relaxing to me.

"You ready to go home?" he asked.

"Yeah," I nodded.

* * *

Eight days later, I paced around Robbie's living room waiting for the mail to arrive. Sara watched with that annoyed look upon her face. She doesn't understand. If I don't get in this school, I will be forced to go to public school and I refuse to go to public school.

"Relax, won'cha?" Sara patted the seat next to her.

"I can't," I argued. "I have to know if I got in or not."

"I'm sure you did," she said smartly.

"What makes you so certain?"

"Greg, you're the smartest person I know, why wouldn't they accept you?"

"Because, no one else has accepted me." I sighed.

It was at that moment that I believe Sara really empathized with me. Since the day that we've met, she's had a giant chip on her shoulder. Almost as though her problems were the worst possible problems in the universe and no one else could understand them. The moment that I said that, I knew something changed inside her. Suddenly, she realized that no, she wasn't alone in her outlook on the world.

"Does that matter?" she said quietly. "These people here, they're really good people Greg."

I know that. I really do know that Robbie and Katie Baker are the most loving people in the entire universe. Robbie didn't have to take me home with him, and help me past the murder of my dad. I am certain they didn't have to take Sara in as well. I'm not sure what her story is, but I could tell that it wasn't a pleasant one and I never sought the answer to her life before the Bakers. If it was anything like my life before the Bakers, I could understand.

"No," I answered her. It would be nice though, if people could look upon people like me and instead of seeing a mutant to see a person, a human being. I hate the cold look in people's eyes when they look at me. I feel like I'm the most hideous thing in the universe and all I want to do is hide in a hole and never come out.

Robbie walked in, not a moment too soon. He handed me the letter and I took it upstairs. I didn't want to open it in front of everyone. If they weren't going to accept me, then I want to be alone when I found out. I took it upstairs and ripped the envelope open. My heart quickened as my anticipation rose.

_"Dearest Gregory Hojem Sanders, _

_The administration of Adolin's Academy for Gifted Youngsters is pleased to inform you that your test scores have met the basic requirements for entrance to the academy. We would like to offer our congratulations and we hope to see you for the start of term on September 2nd. _

_For the start of term, you will need to purchase your uniform, and the schoolbooks your teacher requires. _

_See enclosed for exact test results and grade placement. _

_Sincerely,_

_Headmistress, Miranda Striclin." _

I couldn't believe it. They actually accepted me. The emotion of it all nearly overcame me. This is the first time in my life that an outsider has accepted me. Looking at the grade sheet, I could see that I had exceptional scores in everything except English. This means I will be placed in the third grade. By my age I should be in the fourth grade, however, I understand their reasoning for holding me back.

English wasn't one of those subjects I could teach myself. I tried many times and read as many books as I could get my hands on. However, it didn't seem to help.

* * *

It was six a.m. on the 2nd of September. My alarm clock's shrill ring jerked me awake and all I wanted to do was to fall back asleep. When I studied on my own, I could do it any time of the day that pleased me. Now, I had to get to a building during a certain time and sit through predetermined lessons.

"You best be getting out of bed," Robbie knocked on my door.

"I am, I am," I grumbled and collapsed back down on my soft feather pillow. It was only then that he barged through that door almost like a madman on steroids and drug my ass out of bed and handed me my school uniform. It wasn't the best-looking thing in the world, but I pulled it on and walked downstairs to join Sara at the breakfast table.

"Well, look at you," she beamed upon me. "Don't you look darling?"

"Shut up," I glared at her. This outfit really did look ridiculous. "Do I look ridiculous?"

"Nope," Sara smirked.

"Ass," I retorted.

"Time to go," Robbie announced. "Pick up your lunches, let's go let's go." He clapped his hands and we grabbed our brown paper sacks then were gone.

Sara took the 'shotgun' seat and I took the back. She wouldn't have had it any other way and Robbie would not allow us to fight over it, so I let her have it.

We drove by Sara's school first. It was a rather modern looking building with students scattered everywhere. She hurried out of the car and immediately met up with Gil and the rest of her friends before waving goodbye to Robbie.

Part of me really envied Sara for her ability with people. She didn't have the best social skills, but at least she had friends. That was always something that I struggled with. She stood in the huddle surrounded by them talking and laughing and that's what I envied the most. I would do anything to have a group of friends like that, but the chances are unlikely that I would ever get the opportunity being who and more importantly, what I am.

After we dropped Sara off, Robbie took me back to the school I had my examination in. Again, the schoolyard was flooded with students of all ages mingling amongst each other. I even saw the nervous boy who tested next to me.

Fear took control of me, because I wasn't certain what to expect. At my previous school, the teachers fucked the maternals and praised everyone else for practically nothing. I tried to convince myself that this school wouldn't be like that. I tried foolishly to believe that I could possibly have a social life here. Of course, I would most likely be wrong.

Robbie stopped the car and my heart nearly beat out of my chest it pounded so hard. I wanted to tell him that I couldn't handle returning to school. However, I didn't say a word. I simply stepped out of the car and waved goodbye much like Sara did. Then, he was gone and I was alone.

I took the bench under the large oak tree in the middle of the grounds and began reading my favourite book.

I wasn't there long before a very stern woman wearing a black dress came over to me.

"You must be Greg, I presume," her voice was just as intimidating as her appearance. Her hair was placed tightly in a bun, her cheekbones were peaked and sunken, and she wore thick-framed glasses that dominated her face.

"Y-yes ma'am," I stammered out and came to a standing position.

"You aren't much to behold are you?" she stood there sizing me up.

"I suppose not, ma'am," I answered. It was common knowledge to me that my body wasn't really as great and grand as everyone else's was. My body was as thin as a toothpick and I was fairly short, overall not much to look at.

I would like to think that I could hold my own though. I mean, I might look as I could snap, but I'd like to think I could look after myself.

"Come with me," she instructed and turned sharply on her heal leading me up the grand marble staircase into the old building. Down the narrow hall and to her office I would assume.

"Have a seat," she kicked out a chair for me. "I think we have a few things to discuss before class starts," she began.

"I'm listening."

"I am Professor Leach and you are in my third grade class. I want you to get one thing straight about me."

I held my tongue. Already, I have a pretty good idea that she doesn't like us mutant freaks and that she wouldn't be teaching me unless she was forced. Sure enough, those exact same words escaped her lips. I sat there and took it. I was smart enough not to push her further, even though that's exactly what I wanted to do.

After she gave me her position, I went to my classroom where children slightly smaller than I filed into the room and took their seats. Of course, my desk was off to the side.

"I am Professor Leach, and welcome to my class. Today we will start off with Arithmetic. I would like you all to turn page four-o-one in your textbooks and we will work problems one through ten on the board."

I turned to the specified page to find the problems they were working on almost trivial to me. One by one I wrote the problems down and closed my book before the rest of the class was even done thinking about the first problem.

"Gregory Sanders, I believe I told you turn to page four-o-one."

"Yes, ma'am, you did tell me to turn to page four-o-one." I answered.

"Then, why is your book not opened?"

"Because, I have already answered these problems. I already know how to do this, ma'am."

She looked at me with disbelief.

"I can prove it if you doubt me," I said and gave her my book to examine the answers. "If you don't believe that's my work, give me any problem on this chalkboard and I think I can solve it."

She seemed to agree wit that and wrote down a complicated multiplication problem on the board that I could tell the mass majority of the class would get wrong. Quietly, I walked over to the board and worked the problem simply. Professor Leach seemed mildly impressed by the answer I gave and proceeded to give me a rather difficult quadratic equation.

I looked over it and started working it systematically in my head until I discovered the values at their absolute minimum. When I believe I have the answer, I cleared my throat and softly said, "X equals five point twenty-five."

She stood there shocked at my ability to work math. She ran the proof to make sure it was absolutely right, and was completely astounded to find that it was.

"Who taught you how to do this?" she asked.

"I did," I answered. "I've been teaching myself for the past few years."

"Why on earth would they have put you in this class?" she asked.

"My English score was low. That was the one subject I had difficulty teaching myself."

She stood there and thought about my words and about the mathematical skill I have demonstrated. Perhaps she was even rethinking her position on illegitimates. I doubt she ever really met one before she met me. Most people like me prefer to stick to themselves and away from the normal population. People like me will rarely venture out of our part of town to place ourselves in position to be ridiculed upon.

I would like to believe that I have changed her mind on our kind, but I am certain that I haven't done any of the sort.

Professor Leach didn't give me any problems the rest of the day except for English. In fact, she let me study what I wanted to study as long as I was participating in her English lesson.

As it turned out she did talk with the headmistress about my test scores and found out English was the only thing actually keeping me in school at all. If I improved my scores I could graduate by the end of the semester with my high school diploma. That completely boggles my mind.

Ryan always told me I was smart, but I never really understood that I was this smart.

* * *

It was now October, and I haven't heard anything back from the courts and their investigation into Jonathan Jensen. However, my investigation turned up some interesting results. From what I read about him, he runs a laboratory that studies maternal males. The more I read about the place, the more it sickened me. The things they did to people only because they were born different it.

The more I read the more I realized things about my father. Ryan said Jensen raped him and I'm betting he raped my dad as a science experiment. In fact, that also explains why my dad was on the bounties hit list. He ran away. I'd bet my bottom dollar that's why the bounties were after him and then subsequently me. He ran away from that awful place to protect me. It became so clear to me.

Jensen probably got pissed off because dad ran and he sent the bounties after him. Probably told them he was violent and killing was the only option.

I sat in the library for hours looking him up and then I found his record for lab rats. A third of the way down the page appeared, "Gregory Hojem; Status: Complete—Failed; Terminated." Even shocking was the number of people he ran his experiments on. There were literally hundreds of men on this page all in various statuses. It about broke my heart to read.

That was how I spent most of my lunch hours. When I wasn't in the library, I was usually in my classroom reading on some subject. Recently, it's been English. However, I've also taken a liking to constitutional law, and organic chemistry.

Today, I was sitting in my classroom with a thick law book opened on my desk.

"Greg?" Professor Leach interrupted my personal studies. I tore my eyes from the page to find her looking straight at me.

"Do you need something?" I asked.

"You are the smartest nine-year-old I have ever met. I know you will pass your English exit examination in a month and I was thinking about your future. You have expressed an interest in law and science. I have talked with a friend of mine at Harvard Law School. He's a professor there and he would love to meet you."

I know what she's trying to do and I thank her for it. However, Harvard is hardly the place for an illegitimate.

"I told him you would. You're due there on Monday, your plane ticket is paid for." She slides the two way ticket on the desk.

"All right," I answered. "What does he think about mutant freaks?" I asked. "Will he bend over backwards to help me into Harvard when he hears that I am the by product of two men? What will he do? Okay, so I get accepted to study at the IV league school, then what?"

"He doesn't need to know, Greg. He doesn't need to know. You're a genius, and that will tell him everything he needs to know about you." She gave me a genuine smile. "Now, go put those books away, and enjoy your lunch with the rest of your class."

I did as she said, and put the book in my pack and walked sloppily over to the cafeteria. The other students were mingling loudly, but they stop the second I enter as if I were some sort of monster. I am the only illegitimate on campus as far as anyone knows. At least I'm the only one marked, and they all know it since the day Cedric tackled me at recess.

I took a seat alone in a corner and pulled out the book I was reading before. Excited whispers fill the air as they continue to talk, possibly about me or they don't desire me to hear. I am sure there's a bit of both.

Pulling the books out of my pack I get ready to read them when a group of preps came walking by. Each of them smacked my head and laughed as they continued to the tray return. However, I noticed that one of them looked familiar. He had sandy blonde hair and brown eyes. Hell, he even had my moles on the side of his face. I recognized him instantly. It couldn't be though. It was impossible. Even if it was, the likelihood that it really was him was astronomically high.

"Who was that?" I asked the kid sitting next to me and pointed at my doppelganger.

"Ethan Morris," the kid answered. I wrote it down in my book and thanked him.

"Don't thank me yet, he's got a chip on his shoulder bigger than anyone else."

"I'll handle it, thanks," I ran over to the office and snuck into the back room. There is a file folder in there with all his personal information. I get in with no problem and look him up. Just as I expected, Ethan Morris was adopted as a baby. Then, I thought back on the court findings. I had two matches, Jonathan Jensen and an unknown male that matched my DNA perfectly. That had to be it. Ethan Morris had to be his identical twin brother. The reason I don't know about him was because he was given up anonymously the day of our birth.

It all made sense. Ryan would sometimes use the plural when he talked about my birth. I never understood that, but Ethan Morris's DNA being identical to mine is proof that we're at least brothers. Ethan Morris is my twin brother.

* * *

To Be Continued... Thanks to all who has replied. I love you all... 


	5. A Day in the Life of Ethan Morris

**Sacrifices**  
An**_Evenstar_** Story

b Disclaimer /b I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

A day in the Life of Ethan Morris  
--  
**(November 19, 1986)  
Greg**** Sanders's point of view**

At School

* * *

It was a warm November day, school just let out and there I sat like usual under the large oak tree with my chemistry book propped against my knee.

I know what you're thinking. I have to be the most unusual third grader of all time. It's true. A few weeks ago, I flew all the way to Harvard to have a talk with Dr. Zimmer a professor for Harvard's organic chemistry department, followed by a meeting with Dr. Sharper a professor of constitutional law. My experience with both of them went extremely well. I impressed both of them who put in recommendations for me to take the early entrance examination.

Ten days ago, I took that test, while the rest of my class were taking their social studies examination. I'm certain their test was a lot easier than mine was. However, I wasn't worried about my performance. Now, that I have the results in my hand, things are different. Now, I'm nervous, almost scared to open the letter. Inside will have not only my test results, but my admissions letter for the spring.

Briefly, I took the letter out of my pocket and sighed. My heart pounded fiercely as my fingers tore open the seal and pulled the contents out of the small package. When I read the first word of the letter, my heart nearly stopped. I couldn't believe it. I absolutely refused to believe it. Harvard just sent me a letter of acceptance. Not only that, but they're giving me a full ride scholarship to attend their school. Also, my test scores were extremely high and for the first time in my life, I felt almost unstoppable. I feel normal really, well as normal as a person could feel if they had just been accepted to college. Well, this certainly clears things up. I am indeed gifted.

I sat there beneath the canopy of the oak tree thinking about an assortment of things. While, most people in a moment like this would think about their impending term at university. My mind works a lot different from that. Right now, I'm thinking about my brother, Ethan Morris.

I think about him a lot since I discovered our biological connection to me. Ethan is probably the most popular boy in school. Oh, he's as smart as I am, I can already tell, but he chooses not to apply it. Instead, he hangs out at his lockers trying to persuade this pretty little blonde to go to his make out point. She never does though and he's always left wanting.

However, Ethan has a chip on his shoulder. That makes me wonder what his home life is like. At school, he always acts cool about everything, however the way he carries himself I can tell it's just an act to hide the truth. Today, he has been on a tear.

He walked out with his best bud by his side and proclaimed loudly, "I hate my fucking father." He bitched like this all the time when he thinks no one's listening. However, I don't count as a person so I hear this stuff from him all the time. He sounds pissed off hell he looks pissed off. They got to the sidewalk and his buddy bid him a good afternoon and left him to simmer by himself. Looking around, there was no one left in the schoolyard except for him and me.

He paced around a bit, cursing at his father, and taking a few punches out on the tree. Quietly, I shut my book and gently placed it on the ground before approaching him slowly. I'm not certain how I garnered the courage to approach him when he's beating up a tree, but I did.

As I neared, he muttered something about hating that damn son of a bitch. Then, he gazed up at me and his eyes narrowed. "What do you want iggit?" Ethan griped attempting to keep his strong reputation, but I could tell he was defeated and refusing to admit it.

I didn't really have an answer for him. There was no reason for me to be there, other than my stupid brotherly love thing, which he will never understand. He wouldn't even know that I am his twin brother.

"Nothing," I answered.

"Then, why aren't you over there reading your books?" he asked.

"Because I know you finally landed a date with Holly Flinn."

"How'd you hear about that?" Ethan inquired.

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," I shrugged it off.

"Why should you care if my father's an ass who won't let me go out with her?"

"No reason I suppose," I lowered my eyes.

"Why should you care that my father's a lousy drunk who can't go two nights without going to that hole in the wall bar he likes, spending _my_ hard-earned money. He comes home smelling of the shit, and he ain't got 'nuff common sense just to stay away. He comes back every time and beats my mother half to death, and then starts on me. I listen to them fight all the time and she doesn't know how to help. She ain't strong enough to help. She just takes it like she deserves it or something."

I listen to his story and I know there is definitely more to it, but he won't share with me. I know he wants to go out with Holly Flinn. Hell, according to the stories floating around the school, he's wanted to go out with her since elementary.

There I stood thinking about his situation and predicament, and I do happen to notice how similar our hairstyles are since he had his haircut. I'm actually shocked that no one has made a big deal about us looking so similar. If they have, then they haven't brought it up around me. Usually, they don't have a problem sharing their bad talk within my hearing range.

Ethan sighed. "I wish she'd just get up and leave him and take me with her. But, I know she won't. She's too goddamn sissy for that. Now, he's taking all this shit out on me." He rolled up his shirt and exposed the deep purple bruises that covered his chest. "Third broken rib in a week," he continued. "He came home in a fit of rage last night, damn near set the goddamn place on fire. He accused me of not watching the stove and took a rolling pin to me."

Ethan continued to vent out his anger and frustrations and I could tell he needed to bad. All the while, I'm listening to his story I couldn't help but feel bad for my brother. Here I was the illegitimate and all I can think is how bad off my brother had it. I mean, he's a believed legitimate and there he is sharing his awful tale and all I can feel is bad. Never mind that I was the one raped when I was five and whored out at seven.

"He wasn't always like that you know," and at this point I'm not certain he knows why he's telling me all this, but he just continues to vent his emotions out upon me. "I heard he wasn't always a drunk. He was in the military for some time. Came back from Vietnam all screwed up in the head. His buddy had been shot right in front of his face, and he just wasn't ever the same after that. The military discharged him for his grief and he's been drinking himself into a pig ever since."

I had no suggestions for him. I knew whatever he did from here on out was going to hurt and I know he couldn't' stay stagnant much longer. The end of his rope was coming and I'm not sure which one of them will make it out alive, him or his father.

"Damn, I'd swear if I weren't goddamn related to that son-of-a-bitch I'd kill his ass," he swore and there was not a doubt in my mind that he meant it with everything he had. Do I tell him that we're twin brothers? Do I tell him he's not related at all to this man? If I do, he'll know he's illegitimate just as I am illegitimate and that might ruin his entire life. I'm not certain I can do that to him.

"Why am I telling you this?" he stopped himself and asked.

"I guess you needed to let it out," I shrugged.

His eyes shifted again, the harshness that was lost now returned. "You won't dare repeat a single word of this to anybody. If anyone finds out I'm being abused at home, I'll personally see to it that you eat your dick." He threatened and again I had no doubt it wasn't true.

"I promise, not a word," I agreed. "Hey, I have an idea."

"What's that? Steal me away from my drunken father?" Ethan asked sarcastically.

"No, I'll go with your father in your place. Robbie won't be back until late, you would be able to go out with Holly Flinn and everything will work out."

"Except, dad will know," Ethan sighed.

"No, he won't," I said confidently. Then, I stopped myself realizing just what I was about to tell him. "You said your father was drunk, so we look similar enough to where he could mistake me for you. You're my size so we could easily switch clothes."

"And what if he beats you like he does me?"

"I can handle it, Ethan. I was out on the San Francisco streets most of my life. I've survived attacks on my body both beatings and sexually. Your father's not going to do anything worse to me than what they've done to me."

He asked a few more times if I was sure. I told him I was. Ethan may not believe it but I can relate to having something you want right at your fingertips and being unable to have it. When I was born I was dealt a winning hand, however because I'm illegitimate I might as well fold the royal flush I'm holding. No one will ever see the genius that I really am. Instead, all they'll be able to see is the monster they make me out to be.

I watched as Ethan walked away with a smile and a wave as I prepared to fill in his place.

Just as Ethan said, a man pulled up right on time, reeking of alcohol in an old rusted out ford pick-up truck. He gave me a deadly glare as he marched up to me and pulled me hard by the arm to the truck and practically threw me into the passenger seat.

He grumbled something, but his voice slurred so much that I couldn't make heads or tails out of what he just said to me.

I didn't say a word to him as he drove away and my plan was working. He had no a clue that I wasn't his son. He drove me to the outskirts of town to an old dilapidated shack an old farmer calls a trailer house and Ethan's father stopped and glared at me.

"Well, what are you waiting for boy? Get outta this fucking truck." He opened the latch for me and kicked me out to the ground. "Boy, you better do a good job for Mr. Butler. I don't want to hear that you were dragging your heels again. Got me?"

"Yes sir," I answered hoping that's how Ethan spoke to his father, though I doubted he did.

"'Bout time you showed me some respect," the muttered out. "Work hard, we need that damn money and you know it."

He drove off down that narrow dirt road.

When I turned toward the house, I came nose to nose with an older man, well sunburned, and well aged.

"It's about time you showed up, Ethan," the man said. "Well, come on, get your work clothes on and get to that tractor and bring them bails of alfalfa over to the barn so they don't rot," he instructed. "The last thing I need is four dozen bails of rotten hay."

The barn was crowded with various assortment of farm and over to the left hand side sat a peg with Ethan's name taped over it a set of coveralls hung from the peg.

Those must be my work clothes, I sighed and removed my school uniform and slipped on the coveralls. Then, I found the tractor exactly where the old man said I'd find it. I climbed into the seat and looked at the controls. This shouldn't be too difficult to figure out, Tractors are hardly the world's most complicated vehicle. However, I have never seen a tractor other than in pictures, let alone driven one.

"What's the matter with you, boy?" Mr. Butler screamed at me. "Get that damn thing started and get it out to that field." He again instructed me losing his patients slightly.

All right, I figured out the ignition and started it. Now came all the rest of the problems. I have to get the thing out there to that field where all the scattered bails of hay sitting out in that field.

The next challenge was figuring out the tractor arms, how to move them about. It took me no time to figure out and I started skewering bails and bringing them to the barn, over and over and over again until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon.

Once I moved the last of the bails into the barn, I hopped off the tractor, tired and weary ready to go home, but no, Mr. Butler informed me to slop the pigs.

Now, I have to find the pigs. Moving the bails around, I didn't see the pig pin so I literally have no clue where I am to go or what I am to do.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get a move on, will ya?"

When I still haven't fed the hogs, he came back outside with a whip in hand and whipped my ass so hard I thought it was on fire.

"Now, go feed those fucking hogs," he cursed ad leaves me again without any sort of a clue as to how to go about doing the task at hand.

Once again, he came out of his house noticing that I still haven't moved. "Are you deaf child?" he scolded me. Again, he took out the leather whip and slapped it hard across my back.

"I'm not deaf," I snapped violently. "I don't know how to feed them fucking hogs," I shouted.

"What do you mean?" He asked his face showing bewilderment. "You feed them things every night."

"No, I don't," I answered.

"What do you mean, Ethan?"

"My name's not Ethan," I informed him.

"You have to be Ethan, don't you? I mean, you look just like him."

"My name's Greg Sanders," I answered. Then, in order to keep Ethan out of trouble I tell the fabricated story we planned. "Ethan's my schoolmate. I was standing at the sidewalk of our school when this man grabbed me and took me here. I didn't even know who he was, but he seemed to know who I was and threatened me if I didn't work hard for you."

"I swear you look identical to Ethan. How is that?" Suddenly, the man seemed more understanding of my situation. I apologize for not feeding the hogs as he instructed.

"It's quite all right, you did good work for someone trying to find their way around a farm," he smiled broadly. "Would you like to come in? I know Ethan's father probably won't feed you well and my wife's a great cook."

"Yeah, thanks I'd like that." I followed him into the crumbling house. He was right, his wife could cook extremely well. We made small talk about practically nothing until that old rust bucket of a truck pulled up the narrow dirt road that took me here.

"Well, you best get going, Greg. I wish you luck," he hugged me goodbye.

"Thanks," I replied. I'm going to need it too. I have a feeling getting into this mess will be a whole lot easier than getting out of it. Ethan and I have a plan though and I can only hope that it works.

"Come on, boy," Ethan's father bitched at me.

"You work hard for Mr. Butler today?"

"Yes," I answered.

"Where the fuck are your manners boy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I answered smoothly. This response equalled the back of his hand falling hard against my cheek. 

"Please, don't hit me," I said softly.

"Since when did you become such a baby?"

I wanted to answer him, but that would have blown my plan right out of the water. He'd surely kill Ethan for going out on that date and probably the best I could hope for would be this man beating the living crap out of me. I mean, if he found out we were twins, if he knew that his son wasn't his and illegitimate, I have a feeling Ethan wouldn't live through the night. Many foster children are randomly killed when the truth is revealed.

He pulled me from the car and pushed me into their dilapidated house.

"Go do your chores, boy, 'fore your mother gets home," he commanded me. I go into the kitchen and start working on the dishes as he goes to the makeshift bedroom and slumps over the recliner and drifts to sleep with a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand.

It took me no time to do the dishes, put a pot of water on the burner and sweep up the place. I wasn't exactly sure what doing the chores entailed, but I'm fairly certain they include laundry too.

The slamming of the door scared the living daylights out of me. I nearly jumped out of my own skin as I saw the real Ethan walk up in a mock anger. That's when I knew our plan was working out perfectly. Only, there was one flaw to our plan and that was me. How were we going to explain my appearance being so similar to Ethan's. I suppose it's possible that he'd just believe he was too drunk to tell the difference, but somehow I doubt that would work.

"Where the fuck were you, dad?" Ethan shouted heatedly at his father. "Decide that I wasn't good enough to be driven around any more? Think that I haven't been fucking working hard enough at the Butler's? Thought I wasn't good enough so you could go get drunk out of your mind again?"

"Wha, you talkin' abou'?" He slurred and gazed up at the real Ethan almost stunned.

"You weren't there when school ended," he told his father harshly.

"I was," he said with a questioning tone. "I took you to the Butler's farm as I always did. I picked you up, you were there."

"You were no where to be seen. I was right out front and you weren't there," I heard him scream through the paper-thin walls.

I really don't know what I should do. Maybe I should just continue washing the dishes, sneak out while I have the chance, or tell them that they weren't crazy. What am I thinking? I'm stuck here, if I disappear out into that night, he'll just think Ethan's gone nutty and beat his ass just because of it. If I walk in, then he'll surely find out we're related and that could only mean he's illegitimate as well. I've gotten myself in a horrible pickle now.

That was it I've hit my limits. I can't stand to listen to it anymore. It was a vicious cycle I knew would never end until Ethan was beat senseless on the floor for his disobedience. Gathering up all my courage, I stepped out into the room behind Ethan and looked at the angered man.

"Who the fuck are you?" the man grumbled as he glared daggers at me.

"I could say the same for you," I retorted. "You just pulled me away like you owned me and told me to work my ass off for a man I haven't met. Then, you bring me here and tell me to fucking get busy on the house, in which I have never been in," I glared at him with equal intensity.

The front door slammed again, and a moderate-sized woman entered the house carrying three bags of groceries.

"Where did we get the extra kid from?" she asked staring at me before stopping dead in her tracks. "Oh, my god, he looks exactly like Ethan."

"Faye, take a seat I will solve this," Ethan's father stood up and walked over to me.

"You better explain yourself," He threatened. I looked down at my feet uncertain how to explain this without giving away Ethan's true social status. I can see Ethan gazing at me almost apologetically, but it's not his fault, it's mine and I will have to get out of this myself. Then, there was Faye, sitting on the couch, looking as nervous as I've ever seen a person.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to say anything?"

"I have to think on how to tell the story," I answered. "See, there are things I know that you don't know, and what I know will change everything that you thought you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" They all are now looking at me waiting for my answer. Even Ethan seemed a bit curious to know what I had to say. Faye just looked worried, Ethan more curious than anything and his father, well, if I didn't know better I'd guess I've grown a third eye from the way he's glaring at me.

"It means, the reason why I look like Ethan, is because I am exactly like Ethan," I answer. "No one has to know, no one outside this house. In fact, I think it's best if no one knew outside this house." I cleared my throat and gazed down again under the heat of his glare.

"You two are clones or something?"

"No," I shook my head. "Ethan is my older identical twin brother." And silence befell the room and the expressions on Ethan and his father were shocked, while Faye still maintained her worried appearance. "I've known since the day your friends pushed me around and I saw you and I immediately knew. When I saw you, I saw myself. You have the same soft brown eyes as I have. I even have a guess to how you received that scar on your head."

Ethan's fingers moved to the scar that rested there. It wasn't big, just a half inch or so, but it was something he gripes about.

"The night we were to be born, our dad died, and we were rescued by a man named, Ryan Sanders. Dad's father took you to the orphanage, and Ryan took me to the hospital. Ryan told me a lot about that night. I just… I never imagined that I'd find you." I said honestly. "Ryan was supposed to do the same thing to me, but he couldn't. He grew too attached to me to let me go. He said I was his fighter, his champ. So, Ryan Sanders kept me with him until the night he was murdered."

"Why would Ryan give me up, but not you?" Ethan said nearly angrily as though he wanted the life that I've had.

"Ryan never thought I would live. I wasn't supposed to live twenty-four hours and I wasn't supposed to live a year. I was supposed to die. On the night we were born, they revived me three times. Ryan gave you up because he knew you would have a better life without him. He knew it was better than what he could give you and what he thought you deserved." I said.

"Must not have been too bad," sneered Ethan. "I've seen the neighbourhood you live in, it's a gated community, so obviously you are doing better than we are."

"I was living in the slums of San Francisco when Robbie found me. His car broke down and he needed help. I agreed to help him. That's' when the bounties showed up and they killed Ryan. If it hadn't been for Robbie, they would have killed me too. Robbie adopted me and he took me to live at his house. I've spent most of my life living with Ryan. He made no money. He was black listed. I've only lived with Robbie since May. Ryan couldn't afford to have you. Hell, he could barely afford to keep me," I sighed.

"Doesn't seem that way to me," he sighed.

"Without a doubt I fell into a very good situation and I'm grateful for that. Things haven't always been that easy for me though. My life's complicated. Right now, things are kind of in a holding position. The bounties can't hurt a hair on my head until I come of age. I am on their hit list so I will have to have my life in order for that. My father, my biological father is in court right now trying to gain custody of me. I'm pretty sure he will be able to win. The courts are pretty good at awarding the biological parent with their child.

"Things in my world aren't black and white, they're complicated messes and all I know is that right now I'm going to school here living with Robbie Baker and enjoying life for the most part. Tomorrow, I might be hunted down and slain by the bounties. Ethan, don't look across that pasture to the grass on the other side and think you know it tastes better because it's a bit greener. The richest people in the world may not have adopted you, but I'm pretty sure they do what they have to."

They look at me with a newfound respect. Whether they did or not is beyond me, but at least they were not seething at each other's throats.

"I didn't come down here, because I love Los Angeles. I was brought down here because I had nowhere else to go. Robbie didn't have the heart to let me go so I could whore myself out just so I could by a measly piece of rotted bread," I told them. "Ryan was being hunted by the bounties with orders to kill. Every time they found us, we dropped what we were doing and moved. They won't stop coming until their target's neutralized. They have raped me, killed my friends and killed the one person on this planet I could trust. I would trade the life I have right now with Robbie and his money if it meant I could have Ryan back. I wouldn't care if I were living out in the streets again under a cardboard box. At least I'd have him with me. For me, survival is in their hands. For you, it's in yours." I said stifling tears that threatened to roll down my cheeks.

They were silent at the end of my sad tale. No one in that house really knew what it was like to be illegitimate this day and age. I think it shocked them to know the exact state of the world and how I see it from my own experiences. I am a survivor I don't pretend I'm not. I may look weak but I'm stronger than I appear I will outlast any challenge that is thrown at me. I have to if I want to make it in this world.

They don't even know what to say to me. Even Ethan was speechless not really understanding what I have already lived through.

"We should get you home," Faye said with a tear in her eye.

"I suspect Robbie is worried sick about me," I answered.

"Come with us, we'll see you home."

"Thank you," and I climbed into their rusted out truck and told them how to get to my home. Upon arrival I invited them in, but they politely declined and I walked up the steps to my house alone.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	6. Jon Jensen Victorious

**Sacrifices  
**An EVELMYS Story

--  
Chapter Six:  
Jon Jensen Victorous  
--

**(December 1, 1986)  
****Greg**** Sanders's point of view**  
Baker's House

* * *

I was in a great mood until I walked into the house to see Robbie sitting on the chair with his head in his  
hands. He gazed up at me and I could tell he'd been crying.

Sighing, I took a seat across from him. I know what it is that happened. He lost the custody fight for me.  
That only means that I now have to live with my biological father. The one Ryan fought so hard to keep  
me away from.

A whole slew of emotions coursed through my veins including a murderous rage, but I try to contain it the  
best I could.

"Greg?" Katie walked into the room looking graver than usual. She dropped to my level and looked me  
straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, Robbie tried his best hun, he really did, but the courts believe that your  
biological father would be best for you."

"How do they know what's best or me?" I choked out barely containing my emotions.

"We have to trust that they do," she replied sadly. I could tell she saw the emotional outcry just barely  
contained within my skin.

"I don't know how I'm going to deal," I cried out. "What if he doesn't let me go to Harvard? What if…"  
tears started to roll down my face.

"Greg," Katie spoke slowly. "I know your life has been difficult and lord knows you've been through more  
than anyone of your age should ever have to go through. I understand if you have breakdowns. Personally,  
I don't know how you've gone this far without one."

"I'm happy here. Why can't they just let me stay here with you all?" I cried out. "I got accepted into  
Harvard, everything was going my way. Why shouldn't I be happy?"

"Greg," she said in the same tone. "You have the weight of the world resting upon your shoulders. You  
carry it around with you every day of your life. Right now, you can't worry about the little things. Right now,  
you have to worry about yourself and keeping yourself alive. Jonathan Jensen is a dangerous man. Who has  
enough money to persuade the courts to grant him custody of you. Right now, you need to stop worrying  
about all these what ifs, and worry about keeping yourself out of harms way."

"I know," I cried out. "I know if I go with him, I'll lose what little freedom I have. And that scares me.  
What's more I just feel like I can change the world."

"What do you mean sweet heart?"

"Ever since I was little I felt like I was special somehow. I've always felt like the world handed me this winning  
hand of cards not to fold, but to win. I think I can change the world. I think I can get our kind freed from this  
tyranny."

"Greg, if you could do that the world would be in your debt. However, right now we can't worry about that.  
Your father will be here in an hour or two to make arrangements. It's best if you go get yourself packed and  
cleaned up."

"Yes, ma'am," I lowered my head and walked down the stairs and to my room.

I walk upstairs with my head hung low. I took the suitcase from my closet and placed my belongings in it. I took  
the garment bag and gathered up all my clothes stuffing them in the bag. All my belongings packed into bags I  
flopped onto the bed and placed my head in my hands.

Sometimes in moments like these I feel so weak and vulnerable that it is amazing to me that I have the strength to  
stand up to this world at all. Somehow, I know when that time comes I will stand tall and fight the fight looming on  
the horizon. I know that these next few years will be the hardest of my life. Am I ready for it? Hell if I know, but I  
do know I can't back down, not now not ever.

What I told Katie was nothing short of the truth. Since I was a young boy sitting in that hovel, I felt it in my gut that  
it was my destiny to see the freedom of my kind. Somehow, I've always felt this was what I was born to do.

Seeing Robbie sitting in the armchair in despair brought back painful memories of Ryan. When I saw him, I instantly  
travelled back to that hovel when it was Ryan sitting in the chair, his face filled with worry. It was almost as though I  
relived that entire experience and it hit like a ton of bricks.

* * *

Exactly two hours later Jon Jensen darkened our doorstep looking for just one person: Me. I walked downstairs  
to find him sitting in the living room quietly waiting my arrival.

"Ah, there you are young Gregory," he stood from the chair and walked over toward me. "My name is Dr.  
Jonathan Jenson, you may call me Jon if you so like. I will wait here while you go fetch your bags." He smiled  
cheerily.

I did as he instructed and walked back to my room and grabbed the three suitcases and the garment bag from the  
bed. Taking one last look around I sighed and walked back to the man waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

"May I have a moment?" I asked kindly.

"You may have as much time as you desire," he smirked almost deceptively. I walked over to Robbie, wrapping  
my arms tight around his shoulders and thanked him for taking me into his house and family. He wished me luck  
and informed me to call him day or night if I needed anything.

"I will miss you," I whispered in his ear and tore myself away from him. It was the last thing that I wanted to do. I  
took my father's outreached hand and walked out by his side. It was best I died that day, but I was forced to  
endure as always.

"You will finish the school year at the private school you are currently attending. I hear you have excellent marks."

"Best in my class," I informed him.

"Very good," he smiled and continued driving. "Robbie mentioned you are very intelligent. He even informed me  
you were accepted into Harvard."

"That's right. I was hoping to start next term."

"You will have to wait until August to join the school. I've already spoken to the administration there and they quite  
agree. You will be welcomed there in the fall."

It was hard for me to hear that I wasn't going to be moving to the east coast this spring. I didn't understand why I  
still couldn't. Jon seemed oblivious to my discontent.

"The court thinks it best for you to be eased into my family," he sighed.

"I'm not moving in with you right away?" I choked out.

"You will be spending five days a week with me, and two with Robbie. That is until the court determines that  
you are comfortable here and I can take you closer to home."

"You don't live out here?"

"Heavens no, I wouldn't live out here if you paid me all he money in the world. I live back east. I'm only here  
to abide by the courts wishes," he said and made a sharp turn. "We will be staying with a friend of mine while  
the court evaluates our time together. Robbie did make one request. You are to spend Christmas week with  
him and his family. Seeing how they've grown so attached to you, I could hardly say no." He made another  
few turns and stopped at a large iron gate.

Walking through his front door, I followed him to my new room and sat my bags on the well-made bed. Even  
though, this wasn't his house, I knew I was under his rules. The little freedom I had was lost.

"Dinner will be served in a half hour, I expect you at the table," he said calmly. "You are not to leave your this  
room except for meals, school, and of course to use the restroom." He informed me before shutting the door.

It was worse than I could ever imagine.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. We talked about everything and pretty much nothing the entire time. Mostly  
it was just docile talking for the court representative to jot down in the notebook. Once she left though, Jon turned  
to me with his eyes narrowing and ordered me to clean the dishes.

I don't say a word as I walked into the kitchen and start washing the dirtied dishes.

Once I completed the dishes, Jensen ordered me to my room and locked the door behind me.

Months have passed and it was always the same thing. I'd be locked up in my room, and then Jensen would come in  
and take me to school. He'd pick me up exactly when school let out and I'd do the chores he set up for me. That was  
my life my very existence.

Come February, the court awarded Jenson full custody of me. The next thing I knew my bags were packed and being  
moved across the country never to see Robbie or Katie Baker again.

Jensen didn't even take me home. No, he took me straight to his facility just outside Richmond, Virginia. He showed  
me to my room, a small plain white room furnished with nothing more than a single bed, a small dresser, a lamp with  
nightstand, and a small semi-private toilet.

At times like these, I wish that I were back at the Bakers and I wish that the court never found my father. I never told  
Robbie the truth about Jon Jensen. If he knew, he would have fought harder to keep me. Perhaps I should have told  
him. However, it wouldn't have changed the court's ruling. Either way I'd still end up in Jensen's custody.

One day a month, Jon allows me a phone call to anyone I wish. Today, I picked up the phone and dialled the only person  
I've ever called, Robbie Baker.

"Hi," I spoke happily into the phone trying to hide my obvious distress.

"Greg, it's so good to hear from you," he answered eagerly. "How's things with the Jensen's?"

"Fine, I guess," I lied about my hatred of the place. "I like your place better though."

"Things sure are quiet here without you. I miss you."

"Me too," I sighed.

We talked about random assortment of things until Jon Jensen showed up at the booth and ordered me to wrap it up.

"Hey, it was good talking to you," I said miserably. "I miss you."

"You too, take care of yourself, all right?'

"I will," I assured him before telling him goodbye and I love you.

"Awe, that's sweet," Jensen said and hung up the phone for me. "Dry those tears, and come with me."

"Yes sir," I answered him submitting myself to his every whim.

"I've got a surprise for you," he smiled widely and sinisterly causing me to choke on the risen bile in my throat. I say not  
a word as he drove me away from the facility to a doctor's office in town. It was a nice office, with a fancy waiting room,  
soft music playing in the background. It didn't take long for us to get here, but the idea of what might happen here scares  
the living daylights out of me.

Jon ordered me to sit in the waiting room while he confirmed the doctor was ready to see me. He returned to me and took  
my hand leading me into one of the observation rooms. A doctor already sat waiting for my arrival. Jon helped me onto the  
examination bed.

The doctor checked all the usual stuff, my pulse, respiration, reflexes, eyes, ears, throat, nose, and just about everything else  
that they'd check in a normal examination. He pulled out my medical record and hummed a bit at what he sees.

"Well?" Jon asked him while maintaining his eye contact with me.

"I think we can reverse what they did to him," the doctor informed Jon. I had no idea someone had done something to me.  
I most certainly did not know what they did to me. This was completely new to me.

"Good, I want you to undo what they have done," Jon commanded before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

My heart beat frantic. I haven't a clue on what's going on and why I'm here. I'm perfectly healthy. Hell, he acknowledged  
that. However, I still can't see what needs to be fixed about me.

"Excuse me?" I quietly gathered the doctor's attention. "What exactly are you going to do to me?" I gulped.

"Just undo the procedure your father obviously had done when you were an infant," he answered and continued to search  
for something around the small examination room.

"Please, tell me what you are doing?" I begged him.

"Okay," he sighed. "When you were an infant someone arranged for you to have a chemical blocker placed at your more  
unique parts."

"And this does what exactly?"

"It prevents them from developing into properly functioning organs during your pubescent years. Or the years you are currently  
experiencing. I am simply going to remove the chemical blocker, so your unique organs can function properly."

"And this means?" I gulped hard not really wanting to know the answer to that.

"It means before you wouldn't have had the ability to bear child. After this blocker is removed, you will be quite able to bear child."

At that moment, endless, unanswerable, and unimaginable questions flooded my head. Why would Jon want to give me that ability?  
What is he after? Does he want me to bear child? I gulped again. Perhaps I was to be another test subject for him. It made sense  
after all. He's the mad scientist who believes this condition to be a disease.

I really don't want that part of my body functioning. A guy raping you is one thing, getting pregnant is another. "I don't want to bear  
child," I protested, but the doctor pretended not to hear my desperate pleas.

"Please, lay back on the bed," he said as he walked over to the table.

"Please, don't do this," I whimpered. Again, he pretended that I hadn't said a thing.

He raises my shirt and unclasps my pants pushing them down just above my genitals. I nearly screamed when he pulled out an  
exceptionally long needle, but somehow I managed to hold my tongue. He sterilizes my skin, before numbing the area just below  
my belly button. I'm somewhat knowledgeable on this procedure to the point I'm aware they have to inject an enzyme into a gland  
only maternal men possess. By activating that, my more feminine organs should begin to properly develop.

He placed the needle atop my skin before jabbing it deep into my flesh. I bit down hard trying to stifle the cries of pain I desperately  
wanted to scream. The entire time this was going on, I couldn't believe this was happening to me. He pulled the needle from my gut  
and placed a bandage over the bleeding wound before redressing me before calling Jon back in.

"Your son is able to bear child again," the doctor informed my father.

"Thank you," he answered. "Do you believe he's healthy enough to bear a child to term?"

The doctor sighed deeply. "That's tough to say. Physically, he's a healthy boy, strong and kicking. However, his family history of  
child bearing doesn't bode very well for him. It will definitely be risky fertilizing this boy."

"Can he carry a baby to term?"

"I think he could see the baby to term. I'm not sure he'd survive it though," the doctor said frankly.

"I don't care if the boy survives, I just need to know if he is capable of bringing a baby to term, that is all."

"Yes," the doctor answered definitely. I could see it in his eyes though that he wasn't thrilled about the idea of me bearing a child  
at all given my family history. "However, I don't think it is wise to choose this boy for your little science project."

"I will pick whoever I goddamn choose," Jon cursed and took me forcibly by the arm out to his car. He practically threw me inside  
before taking the driver's seat. I've never been outright afraid in my life, because I always knew there was someone always going  
to be on my side. However, at this moment, I'm horrified, completely afraid of him and I try feebly to convince myself that it'll be  
all right.

When we arrive back at the complex, he locks me in my room and pace for a bit winding down from the stressful day I've had.

The day after, Jon began administering a strict regiment of shots for me to help my body mature faster. Twice a day I was to receive  
small doses of hormones until my body was ready for conception. For months, this goes on, twice a day. During that time, the  
administration of the injections was the only social interaction I had outside of dinner. Even worse, most dinners I ate alone locked  
in my room.

Now more than ever, I found myself ready to attend Harvard, for nothing more than to get away from Jonathan Jensen's control.  
Harvard marked a release into my freedom.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	7. Living Angel

**Sacrifices**  
An**EVELMYS** Story

--

**Chapter Seven:**  
A Living Angel

--

**(August 15, 1988 13 Years Of Age)  
Greg**** Sanders's point of view**

Harvard Move In Day

* * *

Honestly, I'm glad to be leaving the facility Jon's been keeping me at. For several weeks now, I've wondered if he would allow me to leave for school at all. Really, I didn't care where I went as long as it was out of that stark white room. For months now I've been locked in here without one venture out seeing no one but Jon's wife, Chandra. Every day, she'd come in with food and give me a thorough checkup. I hated it. I hated everything about this place. And I especially hate being locked in that awful room with only myself as company. No one should have to get to know themselves that well. 

The ride to the university is a silent ride, the tension evident between the two of us. When we arrived at the dorm where I am to stay Jon pulled me off to the side and gave me a strict line of instructions. He didn't trust me to complete the process he began months ago. Maybe he had good reason to doubt my loyalties. After all, I hated this man.

Once he completed his lecture, I was free to join the other students who were hastily moving their personal belongings into the dorm. They all walked around, some lazily others with purpose, they were chatting merrily amongst themselves excitedly as they continued to move their boxes up to their rooms.

Fighting through the elated crowd, I walked to the desk with Jon right on my heel. "Don't you think you are a little young to be attending Harvard?" the cheerful girl asked me.

"I'm smart enough to make the cut," I assured her pointedly.

"All right, but you're awfully little," she smiled. "I will need you to fill this out," she handed me a clipboard and I take it thanking her.

I filled out the form and returned it to her without the social security number filled in. I'm not allowed a social security number, but that's not what I tell her. "Excuse me," I softly asked the girl sitting behind the table. "I do not have a social security number. Is there another number you would accept?"

"We will take a state identification number," she answered sweetly.

Luckily that is the one thing I do have. I write it down and hand her the form.

"I still think you're a little young to be attending here," she said again.

"Maybe, but I'm quite capable," I replied with a smile and moved on to the next table.

"I will need your name," a man asked again with a cheesy smile.

"Greg Sanders," I answered.

"Please, sign here, and you are free to go evaluate your room," he handed me my room key.

My room was located on the top floor, the last door on the left. I opened my door to find that my roommate has already checked in and took the liberties of the bottom bunk. That was all right, I didn't mind the top bunk.

The room appeared to be in good working order and I dropped off my sheet at the front desk. Jon insisted then on taking me out for books, and food, and of course, to show me the clinic I am to go get my now once-a-day shot.

We returned to the room with my trunk, three suitcases, and over-stuffed garment bag in hand. Right outside my door, I stopped noticing the country music playing loudly from the inside. My body stiffened under the realization that my roommate was right inside and I have no idea what he's like.

"What are you waiting for?" Jon asked angrily.

Taking a deep breath and garnering up my courage, I opened the door to find my room completely changed. My roommate decorated the room in western décor including the large buckles and cowboy hats. He tore down the beds and placed upon platforms placing a sofa under one and an entertainment centre under the other. It took me a bit to get used to the new layout and the overall affect of my room.

My roommate sat on the sofa the vision of laid back and relaxed. Once I entered the room and set my bags upon the floor. He gazed at me with his soft brown eyes. He was gorgeous. Of course, I didn't vocalize this fact. It's not my place to find a romance with a normal anyways. It would be completely unheard of.

"Hey, Nick," another person walked into the room and took a seat next to the gorgeous man sitting on the couch. I couldn't help feeling the twinge of jealousy watching the man sit so closely to Nick. I know I shouldn't, but I do. I can't really explain it either, but I am definitely attracted to Nick.

"I'm Greg Sanders," I hold out my hand.

"Nick Stokes," he reciprocated the gesture with a smile.

To make matters worse, I found the southern twang in his voice sexier than hell. I attempted to push the thoughts form my head. After all, my attraction toward him could also be the result of months of isolation I've endured. Perhaps I am just glad to see a different face. Yeah, that must be it, I convinced myself.

"Is that all your belongings?" Jon asked.

"It is, sir," I bowed my head toward him and he turned on his heel and left me alone for the first time in months.

"Your old man?" Nick asked.

"Yeah," I blushed embarrassed to be related to that monstrosity.

"Seems like a real ass," Nick said frankly. I don't think I've ever smiled as broadly as I am now. "What are you studying?"

"Organic Chemistry and Criminal Justice," I answered proudly. "You?"

"Criminal Justice," Nick replied a little crestfallen. The gleam that occupied his eyes now was gone. That's when I knew he could relate. While I'm certain his father never locked him in a room longer than a week and made an experiment out of him. I am certain it was his father's desire for Nick to study criminal justice. What made this so sad was the fact that Nick could see no way around his father's steel thumb.

Nick was extremely sharp, exceptionally from what I gathered. I haven't had the privilege to meet many people who are I would consider an equal to myself. However, Nick might be the first one. He introduced me to Lee, but I could tell nearly instantly that there might be more too it than that. Nick was too shy to say anything to that affect though. Another thing I admired Nick for was his modesty. Of course, we just met, however I'm a quick study of personal traits.

He asked me where I come from, and I told him San Francisco. He's from Ponder, Texas but I might have guessed that by his southern twang he speaks so readily with. He asked me if the three bags, the garment bag and the trunk were all I was bringing and my cheeks burned hot as I nodded, 'yes'. I know he said I didn't have to be embarrassed about being less off financially than other people are, but I am. Then, he did the last thing I expected a normal to do for me. He would actually be willing to sit next to me, the monster from the slums of San Francisco.

Granted, he doesn't know I'm a freak, and I'm not sure I want to tell him.

We chewed the fat for a while, and then he asked about my friends. That's when it's time for me to hush up. Truth is I don't have any friends that are my own age. Ever since I was a little kid, Ryan's kept me isolated from most people. I'm not good with my social skills, so I tend to be brash or outlandish, sometimes downright childish. I know I'm still just a child to most people, but I've lived more than people could realize.

I thought on the question he asked about my obvious lack of friends and I debated whether to tell him or not. However, I won't say a word as long as Lee was around. Maybe I'd be willing to tell Nick under confidence. After all, he seems like a trust worthy guy. I'm not certain, because we've only just met. That's just my first impression though.

"I guess I moved around too much," I answered shyly. I wouldn't call it a lie exactly. Ryan and I were quite nomadic moving from one shantytown to the next in order to evade the bounties.

"Army brat?" he asked.

"Something like that," I replied.

We continue the getting to know you ritual late into the day. Nick Stokes, the man of a thousand questions always had something to ask and I was pleased to answer as many as necessary. However, I must admit there were a few I was a bit dodgy with due to my birth status. While, I trust Nick at this junction of our acquaintance, I still cannot trust him with the knowledge of my illegitimacy.

Things were just calming down around the place. Lee returned to his room, I was unpacking my bags, and Nick was lying on his bed still answering the last question I asked him.

It was at that precise moment that Jon barged into our room fuming from the ears in a world of fury. He took me by my shirt and pushed me hard against the wall. He pinned me there, with one arm, while squeezing my balls with the other.

"You fucking liked to me your little imbecile," cursed Jon.

I gazed over to Nick watching intently from his bed, frozen in shock.

"I didn't lie," I managed to say after finding my breath.

"Then what was THIS doing in the truck?" he held up the file folder that contained my medical records I was to give to the physician tending to my condition.

"I don't know," I said and he squeezed my balls even tighter. Tears flowed freely down my face and all I wanted was Jon to leave me the fuck alone. Nick hopped off the bed with a new expression upon his face. It was one I've never seen worn on another human being and I knew exactly what he was about to do.

"STOP LYING TO ME!" Jon screamed at me squeezing my balls harder.

"I, I, I, I didn't," I stuttered.

At that moment, Nick somehow wedged himself between the two of us and pushed Jon back. His eyes filled with sheer determination.

"Don't get involved in things that are none of your business," hissed Jon and lunged back toward me. Nick wouldn't allow that though and forced Jon to the ground.

"Too late, I'm already involved," Nick replied in a voice equally saturated with venom and hatred. "You have given Greg what he needs. I suggest you leave."

Nick pulled Jon off the floor and promptly showed him the door. Once he was certain Jon was gone, he focused his attention on me.

"Greg," he knelt next to me. "You all right?"

"Yeah," I answered with a shaking voice. He took me in his arms and I cried on his shoulder. He assured me that things weren't as bad as I they seemed and I believed him. It's hard not to believe it when the words are coming form a living angel.

"I thought my father was an ass," he started. "However, he's never struck me. No, he always had better methods to get his message across to me. Yeah, at times I've hated him for it. The way he was never around and the way he wanted to control my life. Your dad, I don't know," he paused to gather his thoughts. "I have a real problem with people who beat their children. I especially have a problem with it when it's over something as trivial as a medical file. I want you to know, you did nothing wrong, Greg. Your father has the problem. He doesn't even deserve to be a father with the way he treats you."

"I know," I answered.

"You know, there're child protection laws, and restraining orders that could prevent him from doing that to you ever again."

"There's nothing I can do to escape the wrath of Jon Jensen. I wish there was something, but as far as legal solutions, I have none," I cried harder into his shoulder.

"What do you mean?" Nick asked and stroked my back ever so gently. "My entire family's in the law enforcement profession. I know there are laws specifically written so children don't have to be abused by the people they're supposed to trust."

"I know there are," I sniffled and pulled from the safety of his arms. Nick had a way with people, no doubt. He knows how to connect with them and keep them a mile away at the same time. That quality will make him an effective police officer or bounty in the future. "However, not a single one applies to people like me."

He moved closer to me with those soft brown eyes filled with concern for me. I can tell he has this desire, or need to soothe and comfort me.

"Not many of the protective child laws apply to people like me," I sighed. "I may look like a human, but I have no more rights than a fucking dog."

"People, like you?" Nick asked for clarification. His eyebrows rose as he gazed at me cockeyed. "I don't understand. You look human enough. I don't understand why you shouldn't have the same rights and privileges as anyone else."

"That is as it should be, but people like me, like dad, and Ethan have no rights. We aren't legally humans," I lowered my head in shame.

"If you're not human, what are you?" asked Nick softly and slowly.

"You can't tell ANYONE," I stressed. I know it sounds juvenile, however if I tell Nick my deepest darkest secret no one can know what I am. "Please, promise me that you won't say a word of what I'm about to say. If anyone found out, they'll expel me."

"I promise, I won't tell a single soul," he agreed. All I can do at this point is take him at his word and hope it doesn't backfire. Truthfully, Nick will be the second norm I told about my birth status.

"I'm not like you, or what is known as normal. I'm not born from a woman and a man, but two men." Almost automatically, my eyes hit the floor. I'm not equal to him by birthright. My birth status is below his, I know that and now he knows that.

He took a few steps back. I chanced a brief look at Nick. His face riddled with shock, but I could tell he was thinking hard on what I have just told him. The giant secret I couldn't hide from him the one secret that could cost me everything.

"You're a…" he hesitated probably uncertain of the proper word to call me.

"A monster?" I finished for him.

"You're not a monster. Your father's a monster," he said softly and carefully not to upset me further. "I was going to say illegitimate."

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Don't be ashamed of how you were born," Nick said firmly. "I'm sorry to react how I did. I wasn't expecting to hear that from you."

"You don't… hate me?" I gulped.

"No," he chuckled. "You're too cool for me to hate. Besides, it's not like you could change the way you were born. So is he the one who birthed you?"

"No, he's too anti-iggit to give birth to one," I answered.

"Funny how he decided to knock an iggit up."

"Trust me it wasn't love that brought them together. He raped my dad to use me as a specimen or something. However, dad ran away before I was born got away from him, died during labour Ryan took me and hid me from my father until the day he was murdered and here I am living with that idiot again," I sighed.

"Do you know what he wants from you?"

"What makes you think he wants something?" I questioned. It turned out my intuitions about Nick were right. He was exceptionally observant and quick to interpret.

"The way he treats you," Nick shrugged not making a big deal out of it.

"I have some ideas, but I don't want to think about that right now," I smiled weakly and he seemed to agree. He flopped down on the bed and turned up the radio playing Hank Williams and I covered my ears from the whiney sound of the steel guitar.

Okay, so maybe Hank Williams and Johnny Prine aren't as bad as I thought. However, I still prefer the rocking tunes of Metallica. I tolerated the tunes and close my eyes content for the first time in a long time. With Nick around, I feel safe, comfortable almost, and that was refreshing. It was definitely an improvement to being locked up in that stark white room with only the orderly and sometimes Chandra as company.

* * *

The first full week of classes was nothing short of a dream come true. It was everything I hoped for and then some. This was the first time school really ever challenged me and I think that's what I liked most about it.

I just returned from class to see Nick lounging back on the couch talking deeply with Lee. Jealousy flashes through me, but I don't allow Nick to see that part of me. Nick didn't need to know the part of me deeply attracted to him, the part that desires to be the subject of the gentle gaze of those soft brown eyes.

For the moment, I ignore the googly eyes Lee gives him and checks the answering machine to see that Jon Jensen left a message. I listen to it and turned ghostly white when I hear he wants me to spend the weekend with him as a guest of his home. He claims he has someone for me to meet.

Bile rose in my throat and I struggled to gulp it down. My distress did not go unnoticed by Nick. He turned toward me with those same understanding eyes he gave me a week ago and I knew if I asked him to, he'd kick Jon's ass for me. However, it wouldn't prevent him from getting what he desires.

I barely had time to pack when he knocked on our door.

"Are you ready?" Jon asked him.

"Yeah," I answered less than enthused by his nearly unannounced appearance at my door. I put another t-shirt in my bag and zipped it up before walked out the door next to Jon. A taxi waited for us outside and he ordered me in. I follow his instructions and listen to him spew about how proud he is of me for seeing Doctor Avery every day for my shots.

After that, he just made small talk that I drowned out. He asked about school and all I wanted to do was slap him across the face, but I do no such thing. I could barely think it.

I gave him a quasi answer that seemed to suite him and we arrived at the airport not a moment too soon. We board the plane. I thought he was going to take me to the Richmond facility, but I was wrong. We weren't returning there. Jon actually took me to a house.

We walk to the door and Jon rings the bell. A man answered the door. He was a tall man, with dark well-groomed hair, blue eyes, early thirties by the look, and wearing nothing more than a bathrobe.

"Evening, Jensen," the man welcomed us into the house. I didn't want to be there. However, I didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"Do you have everything prepared?" Jon asked the strange man.

"I do," he answered.

"Very well, should we get started then?" Jon smiled and somewhere deep in the pit of my gut I knew this scene was about to get bad. I watch as the man walked into the kitchen and prepared the drinks. He added sugar to each, from packets he kept in the kitchen. He handed each of us a drink and Jon ordered me to drink it all down.

I sat on the couch next to Jon listening to them talk idly about one of Jon's experiments. After some time passed their words blurred together, the room spun around rapidly as my head started to pound. I breathe deeply yet I was unable to get enough air into my lungs.

I sunk into the couch, and suddenly their interest in my shifted. Jon lifted me up and took me to the guest bedroom of the house. His friend stood at the door watching as Jon undressed me. I could tell he was unclothing me, yet I was powerless to stop it. The funny part about it he only removed my pants and underpants.

Jon's hand reaches down and gropes me and I'm amazed I can't feel his physical touch. The room began to spin a bit more rapidly now as he continued to fondle me.

"I don' feel too good," I slurred holding my head as my stomach protested violently.

"You'll be all right," he whispered softly and handed me a couple of pills and I take them. That's when the room really began to spin and I was unable to distinguish what was happening. Was I awake? I'm not even sure. The once foreboding room faded into a vibrant day complete with blue skies and plenty of sunshine.

I'm standing on a beach far away from the grasps of Jonathan Jensen. The sun shines hot upon my skin and it feels as though I'm on fire. My heart pounded quickly, as a hula girl walked past me granting me a wink and a blown kiss that I catch and place right on my lips.

She stole my heart with one glance and I followed the girl wearing the grass skirt down the sandy beach. The closer I got the louder she giggled and the faster she ran down the beach.

I ran after her and caught her by the tall palm tree. A swarm of them surrounded me and placed a coconut bra over my chest before ripping my pants off replacing the garment with a grass skirt. They softly kissed my cheek and their hands covered my body with gentle caresses. Each placed a lei over my head before disappearing down the beach leaving me alone with the one I caught.

She stood in front of me smiling sweetly.

"Do you know how to dance?" she whispered in my ear.

"No," I replied.

"Well, you get real close like this," she pulled her body next to mine moving me so her front pressed hard against my back. "Then you spread your legs like so," she moved them apart wide. "And you move your hips like this," she moved them back and forth.

Her giggles and the sweet perfume of the orchids in her brown hair intoxicated me. Her smell, her presence, her seductive movements, and the gentle caress of her lips against the back of my neck arouse me to no end. I know it and she knows it. Giggling, she kissed me lightly on the neck again still swaying my hips back and forth, side to side in a circular motion. She kissed me harder and hummed a sweet tune. Slowly, we moved to the breaking waves where she laid me down right in the wake allowing the waves to crash over my body.

The sensations began to build upon each other and continued to overwhelm my senses. My nervous system was alight with activity as my body responded to each and every motion. She cooed sweet nothing's in my ear and moved my hips a bit more vigorously.

I was helpless against the Hawaiian siren that has trapped me under her spell and wrapped me around her littlest finger. Her hands shifted from my hips over to my genitals and gently stroked my privates until I'm standing out beyond my grass covering. She giggled and continued to stroke my erection until I'm swollen and pulsating beneath her touch. She kissed me hard and held me close. Such a beautiful spell she cast over me.

She pushed against me hard, the waves crashed hard over us. God I was so lost in the sensations that I was literally gasping for breath. Her hand tightened around my privates and another wave broke over us leaving me blissfully relaxed in an oasis I never wanted to leave.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	8. What The Heart Wants

** Sacrifices**  
An **EVELMYS** Story

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** Chapter Eight:**  
What the Heart Wants

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**(August 25, 1987 13 Years Of Age)  
Greg Sanders's point of view**

Dorm Room

* * *

I drug my toes walking up the concrete stairs. I could have used the elevator, but I didn't want to chance running into anybody. My body aches, and I feel awful. What more, I'm certain I look ever as bad as I feel. One thing's certain I'm not in the mood to be roughed up about it.

Somehow, I managed to pull myself to the fourth floor and stumble carelessly down the hall to the other end where my room's located. I opened the door, to find Nick lounged out on the sofa fast asleep with his English book propped opened over his face. I'm not certain if he was actually reading it or just using it for its light dampening values.

For the time being, I'm thankful Nick's asleep so I can crawl into my bed without having to hear his opinion on the way I feel at the moment. Right now, I feel like crap. My body aches, and ever since I woke up this morning I've had this mind numbing headache stomping through my frontal lobe. I swear it feels as though an entire squadron of Marines came marching through my ears squashing my brain into a puddle of goo stuck to their boots.

I took some aspirin and tried to shut my eyes. However, the Marines marched on playing none other than John Phillip Susa.

A few weeks pass, and I'm still feeling miserable. My stomach hurts almost constantly. It never seems to go away, no matter how little or much I eat. The sun was barely above the horizon, and my alarm clock had yet to ring. I lay in bed sound asleep, as anyone would hope at this hour of the morning. My slumber's restless as the dreams growing in vivid colour and light dance through my head. I flail my limbs and moan in lust as they become more love-filled by the day. It was six-thirty in the morning when I awoke suddenly from to the queasiness of my stomach. I roll off my lowered bed and to the floor as my stomach empties into the trashcan yet again. This was the fourth morning in a row and I was getting tired of it. The queasiness never ends.

I wheeze for air as my stomach continues to test my gag reflex. This morning I must have been louder than normal, because Nick climbed down from his bunk and wrapped his well-defined arm around my torso and held me as I continued to spew the half-digested dinner I ate last night. He says not a word, as I continue to empty my stomach into the waste bin.

When I've finally stopped, he pulled me away and set me down gently against the bedpost. His eyes were big and brown, soft and wide, and filled with concern for me. He gets up briefly and walks to the sink wetting a deep red rag he kept next to it. Gently, he washed the bile from my mouth and pulled my nightshirt off my thin frame. Ordinarily I wouldn't allow him to remove an article of clothing from my body. However, in my weakened condition I allow him to redress me.

Only with Nick have I felt so safe and at ease. I love Robbie, and what his family's done for me. However, the trust I have for them pales in the trust I have in Nick. Even though he informed me, that his entire family is in law enforcement, I still trust him. He knows my darkest secret, and he still treats me as a human being. I've never known a person to treat me so kind and have no reason for that kindness. I've asked him several times what he wanted from me and he always gave me the same answer. The only thing he wanted from me was my friendship.

He pulled my shirt over my head and he gazed me in the eye again. His eyes, the soft brown orbs pierce my soul making the misery I'm feeling now nearly bearable.

"Feelin' better?" he asked.

"A bit," I answered weakly. Was I fine? I'm not sure, all I knew was the queasy feeling had settled only by the slightest amount.

"You still look awful," Nick observed taking the trashcan in hand. "Are you sure I can't take you to the infirmary or something?"

"No," I shook my head slowly. "I'll be fine. I'm sure I've just got that flu bug that's been going around."

"Greg, I'm serious, you look horrible. You're barely eating you look like you're at death's doorstep."

"I'm fine," I tried to assure him, but I could tell from the concerned look that lingered in those big brown orbs that he didn't believe me, not for a second. He always could tell when I was lying. I swear the man has a sixth sense for things like that.

"I can't make you go to the doctor, Greg," he sighed. "However, I'm going to the pharmacy to fill a prescription of mine. Is there anything you want me to get for you?" He looked me right in the eye, and I knew he desperately wanted to help me through it. It was written all over his face.

"No, that's fine," I bellowed out holding my gut firmly again. "I'll be all right."

Nick closed his eyes and tried to swallow my answer. I know it's hard for him to let me battle this myself when I can see how much he desires to help me. His eyes were jaded with emotions directed toward me. From the gaze in his eye, he wanted to soothe the pain in my gut and then knock the living sense into me. Ordinarily, I would agree he might have a point. For days now I've spent keeled over this dreaded bin puking my guts out. Maybe he does have a point. That doesn't alleviate my fear though.

He kneels in front of me waiting not for my answer, but the answer he wants to hear. Nick wants to hear me ask him or help. He feels the need, the desire to help me through this for whatever reason and he might not take, 'no' for an answer.

"Sure," I wheezed my breath still catching in my throat. "Knock yourself out." I pull the can back under my chin and the stomach pyrotechnics go into round two.

God, I feel awful. I've felt awful ever since returning from Jon's weekend get-away. I wish I could remember what I did that weekend. Maybe that would help explain how I ended up in this condition. Maybe he poisoned me with salmonella or something. I don't remember. I can't remember the entire weekend was a wash to me. All except a stupid hula girl and an erection that wouldn't go away.

Once again, I keel over the trashcan as my stomach empties itself. I just can't keep anything down. Every morning or four mornings I've spent like this on all fours over this ugly trashcan.

"I'm going to head out now," Nick said grabbing his umbrella. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to call Lee."

I know Lee's his friend, and maybe possibly more than a friend, but it doesn't mean I like him very much. It's not that Lee's a bad person. It's just I really don't know him all that well and he's certainly done nothing to dissuade my trust in him, but he has yet to do anything to earn my trust either.

Nick's not gone long, only thirty minutes or so before he returned to the room to find me lying on the floor breathing heavily.

"Greg," he called my name, fear and panic riddle his voice and facial expression. "Are you all right?" Gently, he touched the back of his hand to my forehead and pulled it just as quickly. "God, you're burning up. Let's get you off the floor." He repositioned himself and took me into his arms with one big alli-oop.

For the briefest of seconds he left me for a cold wet rag that he's draped over my burning forehead.

"I didn't know what to get you," he said nervously. "I told the person at the counter your symptoms and I bought you some things she said that might help." He set a bag filled with various medications. "She said something that at the time I thought was crazy, but now I'm not so sure."

"What is it?" I croaked out.

Nick sighed and closed his eyes briefly organizing the thoughts in his head. "She told me that if you weren't a guy that she'd swear you were pregnant."

Fear washed over me. I know Nick's been a great roommate, and an even better friend, but he doesn't live in the same world as I live. He's never run from the bounties or knows what it feels like to have the one person you love gunned down before your eyes. His intentions maybe noble, but the backlash from his actions could have horrible consequences for me. If anyone were to find out, I would not only be expelled from the school, but legal suite would be filed against me. They say I'd be entitled to a fair trial, but let's be realistic now. They only say that so they don't have to lose sleep at night persecuting a human being just for his existence in the world and no other reason. People like me, we don't get fair trials. We walk into that courtroom and we're already guilty all they have to do is drop the gavel.

I look to him with fear, hoping he didn't tell. Praying he didn't say a word to contradict her belief that I'm a normal man.

"You didn't," I croaked out unable to finish my sentence.

"No," he took it almost defensively. "I maybe naïve about your world, but I'm not stupid," he assured me. "However, she might have a point."

"That's impossible," I sighed. I know it's not. God, help me I know it's not impossible for me to be pregnant. This wasn't the first time the thought's crossed my mind. It does fit in perfectly with the symptoms I'm experiencing now. I already know that I can't remember anything from the weekend I spent with Jon. This would only fit in with his plans for me and my body. I guess deep down I'm terrified of the thought that I could be pregnant.

"Even so, I bought you a test," he said calmly. Nick didn't, he wouldn't have bought a pregnancy test for me. Even after he said I wasn't a mutant freak that could have a baby. Ugh, I'm only twelve, just a child myself what am I going to do with a child of my own. I'm not ready to be a father.

I took the pink flowery box from his hand and gazed at it interestedly. Deep down, I already knew I was pregnant. The whole thing fit right in with Jon's desires for me. He wanted me pregnant, he wants to study my baby and perhaps find a cure that would make us normal. The entire thought of human experimentation sickens me to no end. What's worse, this was the life that my unborn child will have to live.

"You don't have to take it now," Nick assured me. "You should get some sleep. You look exhausted. If you need anything, I'll be here all day."

"You don't have to do that," I muttered.

"I know I don't, but I want to be here for you, Greg."

"Why?"

"Because no one else is. You shouldn't have to go through this alone."

"Thanks," I muttered softly and allowed my eyes to drift shut. I must look as awful as I feel for the honourable judge's son to miss classes on my account.

It's sad to say that I haven't had much sleep recently. My dreams have become unbelievably vivid preventing me from achieving much if any sleep at all. As I lay in the soft bed I can feel Nick take my hand gently running his thumb over the top of my hand. How did I ever deserve a great caring roommate like Nick? It amazes me that out of all the people I could have been stuck with, I had to get the best person out of them all.

By the time I've opened my eyes the sky outside was dark. Nick sat, not far from my bed reading his biology book taking notes whenever needed. For a second I was left to watch him unnoticed as he flipped the page. God the man was beautiful. In many ways he looks like Michelangelo's statue of David. He was perfect in every way. How I imagined what those lips would feel like against my own. How I lusted for those eyes to see me the way I see him.

"Hey," he placed his book beside him and moved toward me. "How ya feelin'?"

"Better," I answered honestly. "I still feel exhausted though. Anything exciting happen today?"

"No," Nick answered. "Just biology homework. I called your professors, they said they'll see you when you're feeling better."

"Thanks," I answered grateful to have such a wonderful roommate.

"You should go take that home pregnancy test now."

"Why?" I argued. Really, I should take it. I know I should. Frankly, I know I am, but I just don't want to see the result. Once I see the results, that's it, the end of the line no more denying it, no more getting around it, I'll have to face it for what it is. As long as I don't know for certain, I can deny that I'm in this condition.

"Because, look at yourself," he placed a mirror in front of me. God, I do look awful. "That's not all, you're getting sick after you eat. When you do eat you're eating an oddity of foods that I'm not sure a human being SHOULD eat."

"What do you mean?"

"The other day I saw you eating paper," Nick folded his arms across his chest. "If that's not enough, you've been bitchy and least of all irritable about everything. Furthermore, you're vocalizing in your sleep. That's not normal for you Greg. The first week we were sharing a dorm together, you didn't make a sound when you slept except the occasional snore, now you're holding entire two way conversations. I don't say this to be mean to you. You're still my best man. It's just… I care for you Greg. I don't like seeing you like this it frightens me."

I don't blame him for snapping at me. Placed in the same predicament as Nick, I'm sure I'd have snapped at me. He handed me the box and I walked into the bathroom setting it on the counter before sighing. With two hands I held my stomach and looked at the flat plains of my stomach could I really be pregnant? Is that was Jon Jensen did to me that weekend? God, I don't want to know.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Nick stated impatiently.

"Get away from the door," I shout back a bit angrier than intended.

"Performance anxiety?" he laughed. I know what he's trying to do, and ordinarily he's right and it would work. However, I'm not in the mood for this little game of his. He hopes by teasing me he'll ease the tension and make it seem lesser of a deal. This isn't one of the times that tactic works though. If I'm with child, it changes everything about my life. No longer will it be MY OWN LIFE, but I will have to share my life with another life. Now more than ever I understand exactly what Ryan did for me. The sacrifice he made so I could live the life I have.

"Yeah," I answered Nick's question. "What about it?"

The man doesn't answer me, no he's too busy laughing at my sorry ass than to answer.

I take the feminine looking box and carefully read the instructions. It seems straightforward enough. Slowly, I follow the instructions. As I expected, not too complicated at all and I set the thing atop the toilet tank and return to the room. There Nick sat, lounged back on the sofa, his legs propped up, his hands folded behind his head. My body froze at the sight of him. God that man was a sexy stud. If only he could see it. All the girls go gaw-gaw over him with their googly eyes and sweet perfume. So I'm not the only one to see his magnificent beauty.

What struck me is out of all the girls that are falling head over heels to get a quarter hour date with the man, but Nick has yet to bring a single one of them into our room. Sometimes I wonder if he's embarrassed to be seen around me. I haven't asked him, and I do not intend to say anything about the issue to him. After all, it's not my place to question his love life. And least I forget it is HIS love life, not mine.

As Nick sat there, relaxed watching the idiot box all I want to do is sit there next to him. However, my hope of that is squashed when Lee walked into the room and took the seat I wanted to take. Nick's arm flopped over his shoulders and pulled him in close as they watch some sitcom that really makes no sense. They watch it more than they watch each other, and I can't understand why. I could if the show they were watching was any good, but it was some stupid show like the Partridge Family or something like that.

Nick invites Lee over a lot and I'm not certain how I feel about that. There's certainly chemistry between the two of them, one that I've been passively observing since moving in. Nick flirts with him, subtlety. I'm not sure he realizes he's doing so. Lately, he's also been flirting mildly with me. I don't find it strange for him to be flirting around men. However, Lee just doesn't seem like Nick's type.

He's heavily gothic. I've never seen him without the heavy white face paint, the black lips, and the black eyeliner. In fact, I don't even know what the true colour of his eyes is. He tends to wear white cat-eye contact lenses that distort the appearance of his eyes. Oh, he's a nice enough person, very genuine, says what he means, and means what he says. Don't let looks deceive you either. He's as smart and talented in the academic field as he is in applying his eyeliner.

Again, it is Nick's love life and I really have no say in who he chooses to date. If he chooses to go out with Lee, than that's his business. Nick's been real discrete about his relationships, which is another appealing aspect of him. I'm uncertain if he's going out with Lee, but my intuition is telling me that they are an item.

I'm not sure Nick loves him. I've never heard him say those words to him. Of course, this is coming from a person who's never seen him kiss the man. Are they dating? If Nick were dating anybody at the current moment Lee would be my first guess. I don't see any of those girls who faint over him sitting in his arms on a regular basis.

The commercial flipped on and Lee finally notices me standing there.

"Greg, you're looking a little bit better than you were," he pointed out.

"Thanks," I answered mindlessly and took a seat on my bed.

I passed the hours, by closing my eyes and getting as much rest as I can. Part of the reason I'm feeling so rotten is I've barely gotten any sleep, and right now, I seem able to close my eyes and acquire the rest I so desperately need. I don't know there's just something about Nick that makes me feel safe and secure.

"Nick, please," Lee's desperate plea for Nick awoke me from my nap.

"He's a really light sleeper, he'll know," Nick insisted. "I don't feel comfortable doing it with him around."

"Please," Lee continued to beg for Nick's affection. I cracked my eyes to see Lee standing up, his hands upon his hips. "One kiss, Nick, that's all I'm asking for."

"I said no," Nick stood by his answer. There was hurt in his voice, however, that didn't stop him from standing his ground.

"I thought that's what you wanted," Lee argued. "I thought you wanted to hang out with me, to cuddle with me, to have a good time together."

"It is… it was, Lee, but…" Nick's voice trailed off. 

"That's what you said isn't it?" Lee said, his voice torn with pain, tears were now rolling down his eyes smearing his eyeliner and mascara down his painted cheeks.

"Yeah… but…" Nick's voice sounded deflated to my ears. He sighed and I had a feeling I know what is to follow. I lye in the bed silently letting them continue their conversation in peace. "At the time that's what I thought I wanted."

"What changed Nick? Hmm?"

"I don't know," Nick sighed and leaned in against the wall, his eyes closed and I could tell he was struggling with his own internal feelings.

"I thought everything was going great, what gives?"

"Things are… were going great, Lee. I just… I don't know man. I don't know what's gotten into me recently. You're a beautiful man and I'm highly attracted to you. However, recently I've started to have these really strong emotional feelings and they weren't for who I expected."

"Who did you expect to have them toward?"

"You, alright," he cried out. "I expected to have these feelings for you, but I don't. I don't have these feelings for you." He placed his head in is hands and I knew he was distressed to the highest level.

"What do you want Nick?" Lee asked calmly and softly. "If you want me to stay, I'll stay, if you want me to go for a while, then I will. If you want me to walk out that door and pretend none of this ever happened, you know I would do it. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."

Leaned against the wall, his head tilted downward. He tried to hide the tears now rolling down his face. I know he's scared, and I'm not quite sure why. Maybe he's afraid of what his heart truly desires. Lee stood at the door and waited for Nick to answer his question. Things in the room remain in a near constant standstill.

"I don't know what I want," Nick finally answered Lee's question.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Nick. You've always known what you want. So, what are you waiting for, tell me already," it wasn't a question, or an option for Nick not to answer. At this juncture, Lee needed a solid answer from Nick at a time Nick doesn't want to give one. He shut his eyes stifling down the emotions he's feeling.

"I want you to go, Lee, please," he finally gave his answer. "I can't keep you around when I obviously want someone else's companionship. It's not fair to you. Go find yourself another guy, one that you can parade around and show your affection to openly. You deserve that. You deserve so much more than I have to offer."

Lee didn't appear happy being told to walk out of Nick's life, but he did as he was told, he grabbed what little belongings he had in the room and walked out without further discussion.

Nick crumbled to the floor as a heartfelt wail left his body and the tears he held back spill from those soft brown orbs. I wondered how much he could stand and now I know. Slowly I approached him and took the sobbing man into my arms. I know he never loved Lee, not really. However, he really didn't want the relationship to end in this fashion. He wanted to let the man off easy and gentle and that's not exactly what happened.

I coo softly in his ear, hoping that my words are enough to calm him down. Being next to him certainly is calming the uneasiness I'm feeling right now. Nick finally pulled himself together, at least enough to function on his own while I go to the bathroom. My eyes drift down and notice the test sitting there with the results marked.

My heart nearly stopped beating knowing what they mean. I couldn't be. I want to say it's impossible, but the test sitting right there says that I am. Unable to breathe, unable to move I stood rooted to the spot eyeing the test. God, how I wish it were lying. However, too many things have happened in the past two weeks to say that it is. Still, I want to know for sure and the only way I know to do that is to see a doctor. However, now I face a dilemma. What doctor would see a freak?

"Greg?" Nick said softly at the door. "Is everything all right in there?"

"Yeah," I lied.

"You didn't fall in or nothing did you?"

"No, I didn't fall in the toilet," I answered.

My knees are shaking, and my heart is pounding. Whatever am I going to do? I'm twelve, and nothing more than a child at play. What will I do with a child of my own? No kid should have to raise one. At least I still have immunity for a few more years. At least my child would be safe until that time.

I try not to cry, as I leave the bathroom. However, the distraught expression on my face didn't fade as easily as the tears I've cried.

"Greg?" Nick once again inquired about my emotional condition.

"You were right," I muttered softly. "I'm…" I couldn't vocalize it, but I had to. "I'm pr-pr-preg… with child." The tears washed over my face and I fell to my knees where Nick instantly took me in his arms. "What am I going to do?" I bellowed into Nick's shoulder.

"I have a cousin not too far from here, she's a maternity doctor. She owes me a favour, and I think it's time I called it in."

I really didn't want to see Nick's cousin, however, under the circumstances I don't see that I have much of a choice involved.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	9. Innocence of A Child At Play

** Sacrifices**  
An **EVELMYS** Story

--

** Chapter Nine:**  
Innocence of the Child at Play

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**(September 17, 1987)  
Greg Sanders's point of view**

Driving in Boston

* * *

The mood was grim as Nick drove me the distance to Boston. I've never seen Boston, Massachusetts before. It was a pretty city, with an abundance of historical buildings and old neighbourhood. Children played gleefully in the street, laughing as they jumped ropes, played hoops, or played catch. I envy them. Part of me longs to be them, in the street playing with all my friends. On some level that's the existence that I've always desired. They know not the evils that fill the world. Most of them will grow up find a great woman to take as their bride and choose to start a family.

None of them would end up like me, a twelve-year-old child, unwillingly pregnant and too young to be a parent. I should be out there playing gleefully in the street. I look over toward Nick. He's said not a word to me. He hasn't said much since he broke his relationship with Lee. He drove silently, chewing his lip.

Every now and then though, he'd glance at me with those big needy eyes. Was it concern? Or was it something else entirely? At those moments, I couldn't discern what those soft brown orbs mean. Perhaps it wasn't him at all. Maybe it was me who gazed upon him with new eyes. Since the day that we met, Nick's been nothing but kind to me. Even though he knows what kind of monster, I am. He would insist that I'm not a monster.

The hum of the engine and the deathly silence in the car were about to drive me up the wall. I twiddle my thumbs anxiously in the car, part of it nerves, the other part of it anxiety, and the last part of it was the uncertainty of everything. This isn't limited to just the potential pregnancy, but to the possibility of change in my relationship with Nick. Even if he can't vocalize it, I can feel the tension in him.

"Nick?" my voice shook with uncertainty. I have a right to be uncertain. It's not my place to question the actions of a normal. Even though Nick continues to insist we're equals, it will take more than a month to change years of social conditioning.

"You need something, Greg?"

What I need most is information from him. It is no secret to the government that I'm of impure birth. While Nick knows this to be fact, he still doesn't realize what that means for me. Sometimes I fear that Nick doesn't realize the dangers he's placing upon his family.

The government is intent on annihilating people like me, squashing the scourge from this land and that means that people are forbidden from offering us aid and comfort. To normals, we're viewed as the enemy, a disease that needs to be stopped at all costs. We're starving to death on their streets and all they can do is turn their head so they can't see the horrible sight. When we rot, they turn their noses up so they can't smell the stench of decay. When they do pay us any heed they take us from the streets to dark dirty rooms and rape us. Nick has no concept of that life. Nick's birth was a normal birth. Therefore, he cannot understand the risks of helping someone like me.

I appreciate the efforts he's made to see that I have a better life, but I doubt his cousin would risk their livelihood to help me. No favour Nick could have done for them could equal the risks they faced for taking up a maternal like me, a monster like me. People who help the little monsters are persecuted to the fullest extent of the law. They are considered blood traitors, deserting the pure blood, for the contaminated blood, which I was formed.

"Is something wrong? Did I do something wrong?" Nick asked diverting his full attention toward me.

"No," I shook my head and lowered my eyes. The nervous feeling in my gut only grew as we neared his cousin's place. "I was just wondering what favour you could have performed that they'd take the risk of helping me."

Nick sighed, and focused again on the road ahead of us. From the expression on his face, it wasn't a pleasant memory or one he intended on reliving any time soon.

"Zoe owes me her life," Nick sighed. "The summer of my fourth grade year, my father took a job in Washington, mom refused to give up the ranch. She loves horses, my mom. So, every other month, she'd fly out to Washington and leave us with our aunt and her children. Zoe was her youngest, the star of her life. One day we were out back riding the horses. She loved to go out to our place to ride she had so much fun. We were out trail riding and Zoe fell off her horse. She broke her arm and my aunt took her to the hospital to have it set. That's when they found she had a bone marrow disorder. She needed bone marrow transfusions and I was a match. For three years I was pricked and prodded sacrificing my childhood so she could have a chance to survive."

Tears rolled off Nick's cheek the memory obviously affecting him deeply.

"Because of my sacrifice she lived to become a wonderful young woman. When we walked out of the hospital side by side after her last transfusion she vowed to repay the debt she owed me. The debt she owes me is large, and I ask no more of her than she asked of me. I know I was born a normal, and for that, I am thankful I've never had to face the horrors you have, Greg. However, don't think that I don't fully understand the risks. I have seen what happens to people who help the maternals. I know exactly what it is that I am asking of my cousin. I know if a police officer stopped me right now I'd be labelled as a blood traitor and I too would lose everything. Then there's my family, the whole lot of them in the legal system and I'm sad to say there's a few bounties in that lot. I hate the way they treat people like you Greg. That's why I never wanted to be a police officer or even in the legal field. However, I am too weak to tread against my father, too weak to stand up against his will. So, I go to Harvard in their prelaw department learning all about things, but I swear to you, I will never treat you the way they think I should treat you. In my eyes, you are just as much human as I am. I don't buy this rubbish about you being diseased. I know that eventually that will catch up to me. They will hunt me down and either kill the person I'm helping or send them to an awful containment camp while I face a court that would most likely throw me in prison for a long time. I know the risks of my actions. I know what it is I'm asking of Zoe, but it's no more than what she asked of me. When she asked for my help when she needed it most and I was there for her. Now, a good friend of mine is in desperate need of help and I go to ask her now if she will return the favour."

I knew Nick's words were sincere. There was no doubt he spoke the truth. He has never given me a reason to doubt his integrity. It is something I've come to learn that he lives by. His father may run his life, but he's never conformed to his father's beliefs. I can see that now. My only hope is that giving Zoe a chance at life is enough for her to risk her practice by seeing me.

We arrived at her doorstep not too much later. Nick stood there nervously. Several times he raised he grasped the doorknocker and several times, he backed away. The gravity of the situation began to overcome him. There was a chance that Zoe would decline to help me, I knew that, and I understand the reasons why. I'm maternal, it is not my place to be in the company of normals.

Instinctively, I covered my abdomen at the sound of the car backfire a few blocks down the road. Nick gently placed his hand on my shoulder to calm me down.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his eyes beaming with the same compassion and concern as always.

"Yeah, I was just startled, that's all," I tried to reassure him and removed my hands from my stomach.

"Everything will be just fine," he encouraged and turned back to the daunting door. "You know, there are a thousand reasons I could be standing here. I never thought I would be here to ask her for a return favour. I never thought this day would come, however nothing would please me more if she can help you."

Then, Nick flashed that large smile I love so much. It lit up his entire face, and made his eyes sparkle. Something about those eyes gave me hope, strength, and the courage to go through with this.

Once Nick was assured I was all right, he turned to the door, taking the knocker hard in his hand and clanked it hard against the door. A short while later, a man answered the door and kindly invited us into his lovely house. However, to me it felt like an eternity.

The man was a good-looking man, tall with a muscular build. His eyes were aquamarine blue that came out vibrantly against his nearly black hair. His face was creamily pale, with rosy cheeks and a sleek nose. Over all, the man was quite the beau. He offered us tea, and Nick graciously declined. It was clear these people were of a different class than I.

I spent most of my life so deep in poverty I rarely knew where or when my next meal would come. These people obviously come from money and I found that a bit overwhelming. Sensing my discomfort, Nick placed his hand over my shoulder and ran his thumb over the muscle.

"I am a bit surprised to see you, Nick. What do I owe the honour?"

Nick tugged at his collar, as the gravity of the situation finally caught up to him.

"I wish I could tell you I was just in the neighbourhood, but that would be a lie," Nick admitted.

"Those days are indeed far and seldom in-between" the man chuckled heartily. "I take it you require something of us."

"I do," Nick answered and turned to me. His eyes were calmer than I expected, but not relaxed. Silently, he told me everything will be all right and to trust him. I'm not sure I trust him yet, but right now I have no where else to turn, no other route to go. If this fails, the only option would be to return to Jon and I do not intend to ever see him again.

"Dylan, I would like you to meet, Greg Sanders. Greg I would like you to meet Dylan Townsend."

"It is an honour to meet you, Greg," Dylan offered his hand.

Over the years, I've been conditioned to be cautious of accepting ones handshake. To a normal, not to accept the gesture would be considered rude. However, every known maternal is marked with a tattoo on the underside of their right wrists. It is a unique symbol only we carry and is instantly recognizable. Most of the time I wear long sleeves to conceal the mark, and on days I can't I usually cover it with a heavy layer of make-up and declare it's a birthmark when asked. Today though, I only wore a jacket and had not even a band-aid to cover the mark.

Once again, Nick came to my rescue.

"You will have to excuse my friend. He has a phobia about germs. I can't even touch him on his skin," he lied on my behalf. Dylan seemed to buy it and retracted his offer. I give Nick a grateful glance. I was not ready to tell him about my birth status.

"You will have to excuse me for the bluntness of my question, but if you did not come to say hello, what brings you to our house?"

It was the third time Dylan asked a similar question. The question Nick was trying his best to avoid and quickly running out of dodges.  
"I have come to have a word with Zoe, do you know when she will be in?"

"She works until late tonight, I will tell her you dropped by."

"No," Nick insisted. "It is imperative that I speak to her tonight."

There was something in Nick's voice that told me and Dylan that he was not going to take no for an answer. Not this time at least, this time he was going to get what he wanted.

"When will she be in?"

"Midnight," Dylan conceded and sighed.

"Thank you, it is best that we leave the house until then," Nick smiled and stood up and I followed him out the door.

We got back into the car and we drove away from the old house. Once again, Nick was silent as the consuming thoughts returned to his head. Was my situation making him this uncomfortable? Or was it something else.

I gaze at him with a certain curiosity and wonder what it is that has him so up tight. For days now, Nick's been nervous about something and I doubt it was because of my condition.

"Would you like something to eat?" Nick gazed over to me. "There's this great place right off the coast."

I wasn't exactly sure how hungry I was. Not until Nick mentioned something about food. For most of the day I've been so caught up with my thoughts that I haven't even thought about food. My stomach grumbled and I figured that answered Nick's question right there.

"Sounds good to me," I told him.

We get to the small family-owned place right off the shoreline. A sign outside read, 'no maternals' and Nick said ignore it. I pulled the sleeve on my jacket low wishing now that I had brought at least a band-aid along. However, I trusted Nick and so I follow him. We took a seat at the back and our waitress was a very kind looking woman with big bright blue eyes.

"Know what do you want?" Nick asked.

"Whatever you get will be fine with me," I replied. I know I'm not supposed to be in here. This eating establishment had banned maternals from their premises. The less interaction I have with them, the better chance I have off not being caught. Whatever restraints the government placed on harming kids will be lifted and I again would be on the run from an onslaught of bloodthirsty bounties.

They served wonderful food, and I savoured every bite. The entire time I sat there, Nick watched me. He didn't talk to much still lost in whatever subject is consuming his thoughts. I made a brief comment on the quality of food, and Nick only hummed his agreement to me. His brown eyes gazed at me almost as though judging if I would bite him. Either way it was a strange way to look at me.

We left the small place and walked down by the shore. Still Nick was acting oddly. Usually, he's such a laid back guy, but recently laid back hasn't been in his vocabulary.

We walked along the shoreline, every now and then I'd catch Nick watching me almost hoping that I'd say something. Maybe it is I who should initiate the conversation. Perhaps Nick is too nervous to break the looming silence.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked diverting my eyes yet again to the ground.

"No, nothing's wrong," Nick answered and sighed heavily. He says that nothing's wrong, but his body language is telling a different story entirely. Then I noticed it. Nick was looking at me with different eyes, softer eyes. We now walked alone on the shoreline not far from the breaking waves. He got to a point where he stopped and looked me straight in the eye.

"Since the day I've met you, I've always felt something for you. At first, I thought it was a brotherly thing, a need or desire to protect you. Now, I'm starting to think the feelings might be different," He paused. "In recent nights, I've dreamed about you, in ways a man shouldn't dream about a child. I keep reminding myself that you're just a child. You are so intelligent that sometimes it is easy to forget you're just twelve."

Nick stood there looking at me with those same brown eyes. The need, want, and desire clearly present in his gaze and I knew he was physically attracted to me.

"I kept trying to deny it, trying to pretend I never had those dreams that I never saw you with needy eyes. I wasn't falling in love with you, it was only a stupid infatuation. As the weeks passed I knew that to be a lie. However, I was still scared, Greg. Scared because you are just a child and I know you're not ready for what I want. Scared, because of what you are. Even though I see you as a human being and equal to the world, I know people like my fraternity brothers don't see it that way. People like my parents refuse to see the injustice we place upon people for nothing more than how they were born."

His words were intense as his gaze. Shivers ran down my spine, as I absorb each and every one into thought. He was saying exactly what I believed he was saying. Nick Stokes, my roommate was falling in love with me. There is a part of me that feels sad for the man, because I might never give him what he wants. I know there are some wounds time won't heal and I'm not sure that I can ever get sexually romantic with anyone again. I'm not sure I can trust people enough to let them touch me in my most sensual areas. For years people have touched me there, and for years I learned to shut my eyes and deal with it. They weren't molesting me, I was pleasuring them. The truth was much graver than that. They were raping me and I knew it.

Even though I know not everyone is after me to use me as a pleasure hole. My trust in people is still shattered. Still, I feel uncertain about Nick. He's always been honest with me. He's never touched me in inappropriate ways and he treats me as though I'm a human. I know people like Nick come around once in a life time. I'm just not sure he'd wait for me when there's so much better he can have. If I turned down the offer he hasn't yet purposed, then he would move on to bigger and better. I'm not sure I want that to happen. So even though I'm not ready for this, I am ready to move on with my life to try to try to find companionship. Nick has been really good to me and I trust him more than I trust most people.

"Greg, I'm falling in love with you," he said nervously. His eyes were scared and waiting for me to leave him standing by himself. I think I shocked him when he realized that I wasn't going anywhere. Nick's been the best thing in my life since Robbie took me away from Ryan's corpse.

"Really?" I choked out. "Why?"

"Because you're beautiful, you're sweet, and real. Because you've never tried to hide yourself to me and I to you. Greg, why wouldn't I fall in love with someone as wonderful as you are?"

I was completely floored by the words he spoke.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather have some pretty girl hanging off your arm?"

"Nah, I tried girls back in high school. Everything with them felt awkward and forced. I appreciate their bodies, however I'm not attracted to them. This girl asked me to Sadie Hopkins and we started dating. It turned out all she wanted from me was sex and when I refused she bolted for the guy she was doing on the side. I've never had great luck with women either. Between those two things I knew that I wasn't straight. I desired the company of men to the company of women. Lee was my first real boyfriend. However, you saw how that ended. It was because if you, Greg. I love you and I'm afraid of what that could mean. Afraid because this world isn't ready for people with the special gift you have. I'm saying it now and I want you to know I mean it. I've never told Lee, or any of the girls I dated. Love isn't something you fool around with. Either you have it or you don't. Greg, I love you. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Please, tell me I haven't overstepped my bounds?"

I stood there completely shocked by what he's told me. The words resonate in my head and still I cannot believe them. Yet when I look into his eyes, I know they are the truth. I'm not sure if I'm ready, but I'm sure I want to give whatever this is a shot.

The thought is scary though. What if we broke up and we hate each other. Could I still trust him? I want to think I could, so I guess I'm willing to take the chance.

"Greg, if I were to ask you out, what would you say?"

I stood there for a second thinking about what he just asked me. I look at him, he is a gorgeous man and he could have anyone he wanted in the world. For a second I wonder why he has chosen me to ask this question. Nick is the kind of person anyone should be going out with. He's honest, and kind, considerate of other people's needs. So, the problem I have is definitely not with him, but with myself. Am I able to put aside my self-doubt and distrust of people to chance a relationship with Nick? Once more, I find myself looking at him, with new interest and really, I could see myself going out with him. He's such a good person after all and I would think that I wouldn't deserve any less. Then how is it that I am trying to convince myself of that very thing.

He waits there in anticipation of my answer and all I want is to tell him yes, but I don't want him risking his life just so we could be together.

"I would like to go out with you Nick," I smiled weakly. "But I need your word that you won't hurt me. Promise me you won't force me to do anything I'm not ready. Please promise you're not going to desert me when things get bad."

Nick took me by the shoulders and pulled me closer to him so we were nearly touching. He looked me in the eye and promised that he wouldn't hurt me or force me into anything that I'm not ready to handle. He promised me that he'd be by my side as long as I wanted him there. The conviction in his voice sent shivers down my spine. He pulled me into a hug and I could feel myself melting into his embrace.

"Greg, would you mind if I gave you a kiss?"

I know he's seventeen while I'm only twelve. I also know that he will be there for every step of the way until I have this baby living inside my womb. He's already been there for me for so much.

"I would like that," I licked my lips in anticipation. He cupped my face with his soft hands as the distance between us closed. His eyes shut as his lips gently touched mine. Shivers run down my spine as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me again. I could feel his desire to kiss me and I fear that he's not going to control myself. After all, the last person who kissed me on the lips raped me. This time though, things are different. This is the first kiss that I actually wanted.

His tongue swept past my lips and murmurs to me to open my mouth. I do willingly and I'm shocked to feel his tongue against my tongue. He presses his body against mine and I can feel his erection against my leg. The contact shocks me. I wanted to turn away and to say it was a mistake, but I trust Nick not to take me, not to rape me. I trust Nick though and I'm willing to let this continue. I have to let this continue.

It was my first real kiss, the one I wanted the most, the one I've dreamt of for so long. Nick groaned into my mouth and I pressed my body into his shocked to discover I too was hard. My own physical desire to be with Nick overwhelmed my mind, for I too dreamt about him in ways a friend does not dream of a friend. Recently, they've grown in intensity and frequency. I've been unable to explain it.

There was a part of me deep down that wanted to give Nick myself right this moment. It was a near primal need. However, he pulled away from me. His lips were red and swollen. His eyes still gazed upon me with all the softness I remember. A smile spread across his face so sweetly. He took me by the hands unafraid to show this romantic gesture. For a moment, I felt nearly normal.

We walked a bit further down the coastline before taking a seat on the rocks. The sky grew dark and the sun set behind us. Since the moment, I said yes, Nick's been in constant physical contact with me. Either he had my hand in his own, or he'd find a reason to touch me. I appreciated the contact that eased my tension.

For hours, we sat there making small talk and kissing. God, his kisses felt so sensuous. I never knew what a kiss was until Nick kissed me. I've never received an erection from a kiss before and now it won't seem to go away. Nick keeps eyeing it, but has yet to touch it and I thank him for that. He knows how I've been sexually molested several times sometimes brutally. I can only hope Nick's never felt the same pain.

Nick took me by the hand and led me back to his car. The entire way he kept his eyes on me and watched as I strutted by swishing my hips side to side for him, only for him. Midnight was nearing and Nick took us back to his cousin's house.

It did not take long for us to arrive in front of her house, and Nick parked the car on the street. He turned to me, his eyes suddenly serious. "I want you to know, that I understand a little what you're going through," he said simply. "I don't know what it's like to carry child, and nor do I pretend to know."

"What are you saying Nick?" I asked fearfully.

His eyes were sad, but understanding and suddenly I think I know.

"I've never told anyone before. I don't want to tell you now, but I don't want to keep this secret from you. I can't say that it is fair for you to share your dark secrets with me and I not return the same favour," Nick paused and gazed sadly at me. The emotion in his eyes was intense, and all I wanted to do was tell him it was all right if he didn't say a word to me about it. However, part of me needed to hear what he had to say. Part of me had to hear that I wasn't the only one.

"When I was young, my family was always doing something. I had five sisters and one brother. My parents always had something better to do than to stay home with little Poncho the unwanted child. See, I was number seven, the baby of the family. The problem, my parents wanted five children. They were pregnant with their last child when they found out they were having twins. It wasn't the perfect family, but it was the family they wanted. Then, one day mom got pregnant again with me. Dad thought it was impossible, and then I came into the world. By that time the twins were playing soccer for a pee-wee team, the older ones were too busy cheerleading and chasing down boys, and William was graduating from high school. Needless to say, they didn't have much time for little Nicky. Most of the time, they left me in the care of our maid, Trudy. She was a sturdy woman who taught me more than my parents ever did. See, they were always jumping to see the twins play soccer, or the football games, if it wasn't sports then mom was flying to D.C. I was the one left behind.

"One night, Trudy had to go, be there for her daughter giving birth to her first grandchild. She was so happy. I insisted that I could spend the night to myself, but she stayed with my parent's wishes and left me with a young lady. She was a pretty thing, big green eyes, and strawberry blonde hair. From the moment she saw me, she fell deep into infatuation. I mean, she was head over heels crushing on me. She wanted to play a game with me. She had the scrabble box in her hand. I followed her upstairs. We played for a little while, and then she seemed a little bit bored." Nick sighed heavily. His eyes were jaded from the emotion of it all.

"Little did I know those were the last moments I would remain a virgin. It didn't last long. I was a normal nine-year-old I got spontaneous erections. She waited until the right moment and started on me. I didn't last long. The normal length of time I would guess. She rode me until I became flaccid again. I never came. At that point in time, I was not physically capable of such things. I'm not sure which angered her more. The fact that a nine-year-old couldn't cum for her, or the fact I stayed erect for such a short period of time. Either way, she wasn't pleased and struck me hard across the face. That was the first time that I've ever been struck before. My parent's couldn't lay a hand on me. They were incapable of it. While I was the unwanted child, in dad's eyes, I was a miracle and dad's never been prouder to have another boy. Mom, she never could raise a hand to any of her children. Trudy followed the same example," he sighed.

"Pissed she stomped out of my room and down the hall. I barricaded myself in the door until Trudy came in to make breakfast the morning before beaming about a brand new baby grandson. She found me in my darkened room with tears streaked across my face. She tried to comfort me, assuring me it was just a bad dream. If only she knew, I was really raped that night. It wasn't a dream. I was still sensitive from the contact. At first, I wouldn't let her touch me, fearful she might do the same. However, I allowed it when she promised me she wouldn't hurt me. I trusted Trudy. She was always kind to me. She took me down stairs and fed me breakfast. Just like it was just any other day in the Stokes household."

Nick looked me in the eye, tears now streamed down his face. "I just wanted you to know that you're not the only one. You're not alone."

The story wrenched my heart and hit me on so many level's that I froze there shocked to hear his sad tale. I hadn't notice the tears rolling off my cheeks, or the pain I felt deep in my heart. Nick took me by the hand and squeezed it hard bringing me forcibly back to the moment.

"It's time, to see my cousin, Zoe," Nick wiped away the remaining tears and stepped out into the cool September night.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	10. Compromises

Sacrifices

An **Evelmys** Story

* * *

(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())(())

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Chapter Ten:  
Compromises

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**(September 17, 1987 12 Years Of Age)**

** Nick Stokes's point of view**  
Zoe Townsend's House

Greg sat beside me thinking hard on my sob story. I wish he'd pull his eyes off his lap and look at me. But his eyes remain planted on his jeans. From his fallen eyes, I could tell he wanted to ask me about that horrible night. Maybe know how bad mine was.

"Do you need to talk about it?" I broke the silence needing to hear his voice. His eyes were still locked on the hole in his jeans, as his head nodded yes.

"How bad?" he asked, his voice was barely a whisper. "Did it hurt?"

"It was uncomfortable," I answered. "It didn't hurt so much, I was mostly scared."

"Mine hurt," he sniffled.

I pulled off to the side of the road, placing my hazard lights on blinking orange in the street. My car in park, I turned to him and took his face in my hands.

"Tell me, love," I encouraged.

"He was my kindergarten teacher," he broke down in sobs. For the rest of the time that's all I got from him was sobs. Over the centre console, I hugged him, comforting him to let him know that that awful man is gone. That I won't hurt him as that man hurt him. Greg clung onto me as though his life depended on me being there. Years he carried around this pain. I held him tight as a young child broke in my arms.

He pulled, from my arms muttering something about seeing my cousin. "You ready?" I asked to make sure and he nodded. I reached my hand over the console and took his. "I'm here with you, Greg."

"I know," he acknowledged and squeezed my hand supportively.

I pulled the car to a stop in front of the old brick house on Cherry Lane. Once more, I looked over to him to see if he was ready for this. A puppy, lost and scared sat beside me, or might as well from the look in his eyes. I held out my hand and he took it. A grave smile spread over his face and I knew he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

Leaving the car, I walked to his door and took him by the hand. His eyes for a second smiled at me, but quickly faded as the reality of our visit struck him hard. Tensions rose within my love as we approached the door on Cherry Lane. Subconsciously, I bite my lower lip, but quickly stop when I notice Greg's eyes upon me. A nervous habit of sorts I really should break.

I look at him on this cool September night and I wonder if he can tell how beautiful he is. His eyes look at me nearly star-struck the words of adoration were upon his lips but contained within his lovely body. I bet all Greg can see is the scars that lie upon his skin from all the men who wish to harm him.

The questions he wishes to ask rested upon those pink lips. From his eyes, I could tell he was trying to push his self-doubts out of his mind. I really do understand. All his life he was conditioned to believe that people like him were monsters. Something like that just doesn't go away overnight.

"Are you ready?" I asked and he nodded his head. It was now or never and I took the heavy knocker in my hand and clanked it against the wooden door a few times.

Zoe wasted no time answering the door.

"Dylan said you would be coming over," she opened the door and invited the two of us inside her wonderful home. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"No, that's quite all right," I answered. While her back was turned, I leaned over close to Greg and muttered something about her nearly inedible cooking skills. Greg chuckled of course and Zoe turned around with a glare.

"It's good to see you," she sat down across form us. She looked as beautiful as ever. Long brunette hair, the trademark Stokes brown eyes, tanned skin, and a beautiful smile. Even in her hospital scrubs, she looked as beautiful as ever. "Dylan said you needed to talk to me."

"That's right," I took a deep breath and glanced at Greg momentarily. "I need to ask you a favour."

"What is it, Nick. What do you need?"

"Remember when we were kids?" I didn't know a better place to start this conversation.

"Of course I remember, your parents were always gone, we spent months together," Zoe recalled.

"And you got really sick," I added.

"How could I forget, I spent three years in and out of the hospital getting one bone marrow transfusions after another."

At that moment, the friendly atmosphere sobered as her eyes locked with mine. Greg's body shivered with the change of attitudes. Instinctively, I took him by the hand and let him know that I'm still by his side, always, by his side.

Zoe's playful demeanour dissipated right where she sat. Her eyes became melancholy, as she remembered the exact exchange we shared that day.

"I promised, that I would repay the favour you gave me," she said nearly lifelessly. Clearly, she forgot her unfulfilled promise. The favour I am here to collect from her. Her eyes jolt up at mine, her hand covered her mouth in shock. "You're here to collect."

"Yeah," I took a deep breath, thinking about the best way to put this.

From behind my back a voice said, "How come you never told me about this?" His voice was filled with concern his blue eyes sparkled with sadness.

"Because I didn't want to tell anyone, Dylan," Zoe defended. "It happened a long time ago. Surely, you can understand that some things are just too painful to retell."

Dylan remained silent, as his eyes grazed over Greg and I curiously, wondering what we're asking for in return. What I asked of my cousin was no more than what she asked of me when we were children. The gift of life comes in many forms, but it is still the same gift and I ask no more of her than that.

"What do you want from my wife, Nick?" Dylan asked almost scared to know what the answer could be.

"Nothing more than what she asked of me," I answered honestly.

"You're not dying are you?" Zoe gulped afraid of what my answer could be.

"No, no, I'm not dying," I assured her and her face melted with some relief. "I do need your help though."

Right that moment, I swear she was about to agree to anything I wanted. The look in her eyes said that, but she held herself back at the last moment. I squeezed Greg's hand trying to assure him that everything was going to be all right. I could tell he was nervous. Hell, I'm nervous so I really can't blame him. He's carrying that child within his body and I can just imagine how scared he is.

"Tell me what you need me to do," she said softly.

"I need you to help with a pregnancy," I stated.

Zoe looked at me curiously for a second waiting for an explanation. Maybe, she was figuring out why it was I brought Greg Sanders with me. Her eyes shift between the two of us, her mind reaching all sorts of unspoken conclusions.

"It's not what you think," I tried to back-peddle as fast as I could. Yes, I was fond of Greg, very fond. However, it is not my child growing within his womb.

"Oh?" She coughed and I knew this conversation just dove into a new level of awkward and tense. "Nick, we've known each other for quite a while now." She pretty much stated the obvious.

"I know," I answered.

"I know how you swing, Nick. I mean I've known for a while now. Is he your boyfriend?"

"He is, but that doesn't mean things are the way they seem." I tried to convince her. "Zoe, I would like you to meet my boyfriend, Greg Sanders, Greg this is my cousin Zoe," I properly introduced them. "Zoe, Greg is first and foremost, my roommate. A month back, he went home for the weekend. When he came back, he was disorientated, unable to remember anything he did during the weekend. A week later, he started exhibiting flu-like symptoms. I have reason to believe that Greg was raped, and impregnated."

Whether Zoe knew it or not, I was desperate for her help. Greg sat beside me, nearly scared to death. Several times tonight, I've had to offer my assurances that everything would be all right. Did I know that in the end it was going to be as I hoped? To tell the truth, I don't have a clue how this will end. I look to Zoe, hoping she can see how desperate I am.

"Please," I pleaded with her. "Greg's only twelve. He doesn't have anyone else to help him through it. Please, Zoe, his father died during labour. He nearly died during labour."

"Nick…"

"Zoe, I'm desperate. Look at him. Look at him," I cried out. Silence filled the room, and I felt Greg quiver on my side. All I wanted to do just then was pull him close to my body and let him know if nothing else happens this evening, at least he'd have me. I'm not going anywhere. I don't care if Zoe chooses to help me or not.

I positioned myself so that I'm facing him. I looked him straight in the eye. At first, he returned, before his eyes dropped. I wish he wouldn't do that, but I understand it is conditioning. The habit won't disappear over night and nor do I expect it to. I can tell he's frightened though. In the way Greg held his hands clinched tight over his stomach as though he's afraid of the thing growing inside him, or afraid of others harming the growth within.

Zoe's a good person, a good doctor and I know eventually her head will surrender and her heart will take over. All I have to do is hang tough for the both of us. It's taking strength. Strength, right now Greg doesn't have.

"Nick," Zoe's voice cut through the tense silence of the room. "The boy is cursed with the maternal gene. There's nothing I can do to help him. I'm sorry. I truly am," she answered.

"I understand," I stood from my seat. Greg took me by the hand and I meet his eyes looking up at me almost begging me to push onward not to give up this easily. His grip was hard and I knew I had to fight harder for this.

"Please," Greg pleaded with me. I knew then that no matter what happens here tonight, I wasn't giving up without a fight.

Looking toward Zoe, I saw the sadness and regret in her eyes. That's when I saw what Greg was seeing. It wasn't by Zoe's choice to restrain against helping Greg. I can see that now. Dylan stood behind her, his arms folded over his chest, standing fast.

My argument wasn't for Zoe, she was willing to help and risk her live, her career, and everything she held dear for this stranger. She was willing to repay her debt to her cousin. Dylan wasn't keen on letting her throw their life away.

"Come one Greg," I took him by the hand and led him down the hallway.

"Please, don't go," Zoe cried.

"Nick, what are you doing?" Greg argued.

"Trust me," I whispered, giving him a look that told him I know what I'm doing. I take our jackets from the coat rack and place his over his slender shoulders and walked him out to the car. To no surprise, Zoe followed us out. Dylan stood at the door as his wife rushed down the steps to stop us.

"Nick," she gasped out my name, trying to clutch me by the arm. "Please, don't go." Tears ran down her face, her heart finally won over. Unfortunately, I still have to contend with Dylan. I opened the door and place Greg in the passenger's seat.

His body's physically shaking, and I know how scared he is. It's never been clearer to my eyes. I try to calm him with my eyes. I don't dare touch him in public. Not since the new mandates were issued forbidding same sex relations to take place. Public or private it didn't matter to them, however if you're stupid enough to touch in public you deserve to be arrested. People thought it was an unenforceable law. However, where there's a bloodthirsty bounty, there's a way. Every night they show a suspected homosexual's house being raided. Mostly, they're just false calls, but every now and then one of them has some merit to it. I feel for those. They are drug down kicking and screaming to the confinement camps.

When I decided to ask Greg out, I knew the dangers of my choice. Our very lives depend on our secrecy. Zoe's livelihood depends upon it. All of ours do. In public, I can't hardly acknowledge him for fear that I might let out too much emotion from just a simple gaze. He sits there scared to death and I can't blame him. I'm scared right now. Not just for me, but also for him and the baby he carries.

"Nick, please…" Zoe begged. "Don't go."

I stopped right there with the driver's door opened.

"I'll do what I can," she whimpered out.

"I'll be back shortly," I whispered to Greg who nodded slightly without returning my gaze. It is best that his body language largely ignore me. I wish it didn't have to be so, but if we are to survive in this world, it must be.

I follow Zoe back in her house and down the steps into her basement. It was chilly and dingy. Zoe never was much of a housekeeper. She hired maids to do that for her.

Dylan followed us down and tried to beg his wife not to help us in any way. He even threatened to turn us in if she helped. Zoe protested passionately, threatening to cut off his weenie if he even dared. It was at that point that Dylan hushed up a bit and allowed us to talk.

Zoe sat in a weatherworn chair and sighed.

"I shouldn't be helping him at all," she muttered shaking her head. "However, you did save my life, Nick and for that I do owe you my life. I will agree to help Greg through his pregnancy."

It was music to my ears. However, it was too much to hope that these events would come unconditionally. There were too many risks involved. The chances of being caught were high and the penalties were harsh for anyone aiding one of these special men.

"However, we would have to take certain precautions, to ensure we don't get caught."

"You're going to get caught," Dylan interrupted. "Everyone does."

"Not if we play this smart. Nick, no one else knows he's pregnant do they?"

"No, I don't think so," I shook my head.

"Good," her eyes shut feeling some comfort in knowing we've kept this news tight-lipped. "We will have to create a false identity for Greg, if we are to get his lab work done. Don't worry about the 'Y' chromosome, I will handle the labwork myself, no one needs to know."

"Won't someone notice you running it?" I asked.

"No one will notice. Because I deal with women who have a high chance of having a difficult pregnancy, and I usually run their lab tests for them personally. It will be no different."

"All right, what else?"

"I will need to run a complete and thorough physical on him. I need to know he's healthy. I will want blood tests from him weekly. He's going to protest, as most people would. However, to keep things discrete, we should handle this exchange in casual ways. That way it will be harder to tell what we're doing."

Swallowing my pride, I agreed to her plan of secrecy. I hate the fact that we have to keep our relationship secret. I hate the fact that Greg will have this baby. I wish it never happened. However, now that it has, I'm not going to back down. With Greg on the line, how could I back down?

"There is one more thing," Zoe said. Her voice now was quite uncertain. Before, it was filled with determination and confidence. Now, it was weak. "Not much is known about a maternal male. Especially about the details of how their bodies handle pregnancy."

"What are you saying?" I gulped.

"I'm saying I would like to study Greg through this pregnancy. Maybe, what we discover will help bring about a change for freedom."

I didn't like the idea of that. Not one bit. However, I do understand what could be gained from understanding the maternal male's anatomy. Obviously, somewhere Greg is different from me. Reluctantly, I agree to her unusual request.

It nearly killed me to agree to it though. I hate the idea of Greg being some guinea pig. However, Zoe's right, there is a lot of good that can come out of the understanding of his anatomy. Maybe she's right about this information bringing about freedom for all men.

Zoe and I also agreed that Greg should be hidden away once he's showing past a reasonable explanation. This is not only for our protection, but for his as well. Terrible things happen to those men who are carrying. Incarceration would appear docile as punishment in comparison to the penalties Greg faces.

It's no secret, pregnant men are easy to find. Their bodies take on a unique shape that clearly defines them as carrying child. What's worse is when they are caught while they are carrying child. The penalties against them can be severe. I fear for Greg. Probably a whole lot more than he fears for himself. My entire family is in the legal system. Hell, I have some bounties in the family that would love to cut his throat for the monstrosity that he is to society. I've seen what can happen to these men. I know the risks and I'm still willing to take them. Greg's worth it though.

We came to an agreement and I quickly walked to the car. Seeing him sitting in the passenger seat, his eyes downcast, I instantly wanted to scoop him up into my arms and lay a big wet kiss on him. However, doing so would surely blow our cover.

I opened the door and pulled him almost heartlessly in the building. I hope the neighbours can't see behind the false angry front that I've put up. Forcibly, I drug him by the upper arm into the house. He protested along the way. About to curse me out for the harshness of my actions, I let go of him.

"I'm sorry for that," I said quietly. Greg wanted to retort, I saw it in his eyes. He's angry, and I don't blame him. Right now, it's best that he be angry with me. That way no one can see the love I feel for him. The love right now I long to express toward him.

"Yeah," Greg huffed. He didn't believe that.

"I really am," I said just as calmly. "I'm not mad at you Greg, I didn't mean to hurt you or to seem cold toward you. It's just that I'm afraid, Greg."

"Afraid? Why must you fear for me? It's me who's going to end up in the camps, beaten until my body can't hold life any more. Afraid, you have nothing to be afraid about."

He had a point, but he still doesn't see how deep I am into this.

"I'm afraid for you, for me, for my cousin Zoe, Greg. I, I…" I couldn't say it. Our relationship's not ready for me to say the word that's right upon my lips. "I care deeply for you Greg. It would kill me to see them take you away from me. It would kill me to see you hurt like that. Yes, Greg I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid that any of those neighbours out there could be watching us and see right through my act."

Greg stood there for a moment and ogled at me almost as though he couldn't believe the honesty in my voice. Once the door was shut, Greg closed the distance to me and hugged me tight and I knew that he understood.

"Zoe's agreed to help you," I whispered in his ear. He leaned in close to me so I could feel his heart beating hastily through his chest.

"There is one catch though," I mentioned as we headed back into the basement. Reaching the bottom, Zoe flipped the light to expose a cot. Greg turned to me and I hated doing this to him. I hate handing him over so Zoe can study his anatomy. It makes me feel as though I'm using him. I'm not, but it sure as hell feels like I am.

He turned toward me, his eyes filled with fear. "Nick, what's going on?" he asked, his voice quivering slightly. His whole body's shaking and I hold onto him a little tighter.

I looked him straight in the eye, not daring to look anywhere else. "Greg," I sighed. "The only way I could get Zoe to agree to help you out, is if you'll allow her to study your anatomy."

"What if I refuse?" Greg gulped.

"Greg, please," I tried to get him to look at me. Again, his eyes fell to his feet. I'm sure to him this seems like the same old thing, just a different verse. "You need to have someone looking after your health. Zoe's willing to risk everything to help you, but only if you agree to let her examine your anatomy."

Greg looked me straight in the eye. It's one of the few times he's ever dared to look at me so openly. "How do I know she's not going to mutilate me?"

"Because, I'll be with you the entire time."

"Promise?"

"I promise I won't let her do anything that will harm you or the baby."

From his eyes, I could see his thoughts churning. He's thinking about it heavily. At this point, all I can do is hope that he makes the right decision. It wasn't easy for me to agree to this condition, but Zoe insisted.

With on last breath, he nodded his head forward and walked over to the cot. "Let's get this over with," he stated near lifelessly.

Zoe snapped on the rubber gloves and approached the bed. At that moment, I think my heart stopped. I hated seeing Greg go through this. However, under the circumstances, what other choice did I have?

* * *

To Be Continued... Reviews are always appreciated. 


	11. Awakening to Innocence

Sacrifices  
An Evenstar Story

Rated NC-17 for oh so many reasons.  
Disclaimer I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies.

--  
Chapter Eleven:  
Awakening to Innocence

(September 20, 1988 13 Years Of Age)  
Greg Sanders's point of view  
Zoe Townsend's House

The room was quiet and dark, my surroundings unfamiliar to me. I can feel my heart race as panic starts to set in. In my attempt to move, I found myself oddly pinned down. At first I wanted to fight, to kick, and to remove the binds that held me firmly in place only to realize it was a person. My eyes now adjusted, I could make out the darkened form sleeping soundly over my chest.

I forced a few deep breaths down my throat in an attempt to quell the fear that's within me. My senses came to me, as the soft fragrance that could only belong to Nick filled my nose. My heart rate lowered as the smile spread across my face. That's right, I'm at Zoe's house, and Nick had been by my side the entire time.

I watched as he slept soundly upon my chest, his head facing me. He snored softly into the quiet room, but I didn't mind. The man was adorable when he slept. Of course, he was adorable any time of the day. Nick is an absolutely beautiful person. He had eyes that seemed to go on forever; a warm chocolate brown. His smile lit up his entire face, and made me want to melt right into his muscular arms. His dark hair, his tanned skin, his muscles, no matter how I looked at it, Nick Stokes was the embodiment of perfection. However, that didn't make him truly beautiful. What made Nick truly beautiful wasn't his great looks, but what was inside of him. Nick had a genuine love for life. Until I met Nick, I've never truly seen how beautiful life could be. I suppose I've always been too busy trying to survive to notice before.

For a person like me, a person like Nick is a once and a life time find. It isn't often that my kind finds a person who cares not about how you were born, but the person you are. A person, that is true and honourable to their word, no matter what birth-status the person may be. Ordinarily, maternal males are regarded as a person with no birthrights at all. We are scum, of society. We represent everything that's wrong with the world. Nick never saw that in me. In fact, he's one of the few people who have ever looked at me as though I were a man, and not some walking disease.

The sun must be rising in the sky. I could hear the birds chirping from the trees out on the street. From the floors above me, I could hear people stir. The floorboards cracked and creaked as people walked over them. From the overhead vent, I could hear the muffled conversation taking place above. The tone of their voices was less than encouraging to my ears. They sounded worried as they talked in private, unaware that I could hear almost every word.

"He can't stay here Zoe," I heard Dylan comment.

"I know," she answered. "I've made arrangements for him to be sent to the sanctuary. It's a place down in Texas, secretly owned by William Stokes himself."

"Your uncle, the Texas judge?"

"Yeah."

"Does Nick know?"

"No, and he won't until he knows where Nick's allegiances belong," I overheard. I looked over to Nick, still sound asleep over my chest snoring softly. He looked so peaceful there, at ease, and comfortable. I knew where his allegiances lie. They were with me. Nick was a man of integrity and true to his word, or I would like to believe he is. Honestly, I wish I knew if Nick was the kind of person I perceive him to be. I hope he is, but I have to doubt. My distrust of people isn't based on unfounded truths. More than anything, I am aware of the world which I live and I know how it views people like me. Still, I'd like to believe that Nick was different.

"He's very careful on who he tells about the sanctuary."

"How'd you learn about it?"

"He told me, shortly after receiving my doctorate, only after making me swear into secrecy," I listened carefully to Zoe's words.

"When does he leave?"

"Tomorrow. It's best that he leaves immediately. I'll talk to Nick later today." Her voice sounded troubled and I understood why. Tomorrow I will be leaving to a sanctuary ran by none other than Nick's father. I know it's for the best. They will be able to take care of me, to help me through all these changes. While, I would love to have Nick by my side the entire way, I know that's not possible. Still, I know that it doesn't matter where I am or where he is, he'll still be by my side, even if he's not physically there.

The front door shut and the house was virtually silent again. The only sounds in the house were the soft snores from Nick and the soft putter of movement overhead. The silence was calm, but less than relaxing, which resembled the quiet before the storm. I have no doubt that analogy is correct. After all, this thing growing inside me, if it really is inside me can only grow bigger.

The door atop the stairs opened with a squeak. Zoe stepped quietly down the stairs and turned on the dim light in the corner.

"Good morning, Greg," she beamed down upon me. Her eyes were filled with sadness and heartache, but still full of strength. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up. How are you feeling?"

"A little sore," I answered.

"Well, I can imagine that, I did a lot of prodding in you. I hope I didn't hurt you too much."

"It's nothing I can't handle," I assured her quietly.

"I see Nick's finally fallen asleep," she mentioned softly. "It's about time too. He's been up four days straight."

"Four days?" I nearly choked. "I've been out four days?" I was almost shocked. "... and Nick was here with me the entire time?"

"Never left your side, the entire time, I even had to bring his food down here," she beamed. "Listen, your pregnancy test came back positive..."

"I thought it might," I sighed. Even though I knew it was true, I still wanted to believe it wasn't possible. I wanted to believe that I wasn't pregnant, that I was just a normal teenager never born with this mutated gene.

It wasn't true. I'm not a normal teenager and I am indeed carrying a growing child within my womb. It was as clear as the look in Zoe's brown eyes.

"Then you understand that you can't stay here," she said tensely. Her worry was evident in her eyes, even through her melancholy expression. She breathed slowly as she took my hand. "The arrangements are made. Tomorrow morning, a freight pilot will fly you out to Texas where a man will collect you and drive you to a sanctuary."

I sat there in complete shock. For most of my life, I've been acutely aware of the sanctuaries. When I overheard Zoe's conversation above, I wasn't sure I heard them right. A sanctuary ran by none other than Nick's father. It was almost unbelievable. In fact, until this moment I didn't believe it. Zoe was actually sending me to a sanctuary. Only the lucky ones ever went to those places. Usually, they're filled to capacity, and if they did have room, they only take the truly needy and only the healthy ones into their fold.

"Unfortunately, Nick will be unable to join you, at least for the time being. I assure you that you will be well cared for, and well protected."

"Does this mean they've already accepted me?" I asked excitedly.

"They have."

"Then, I'm healthy?" I asked almost relieved. There are so very few of us are actually healthy. The people of impure birth are usually plagued with several ailments to say the least. The most common of these were diseases passed to us through unprotected sexual contact. I couldn't tell you how much relief I found just in the knowledge that I was negative for all these horrible things. Of course, I will have to be tested again in six months just to make sure.

"I've never seen a healthier person in my life, Greg," she smiled so broadly it almost appeared genuine. Her face quickly faded back into her jaded expression. "I was just coming down here to check on you, make sure you were all right," she paused. "I have some things I have to do, in regards to you and your school."

I looked toward her pointedly, almost angrily as though she were taking this wonderful opportunity away from me.

"I'm going to ask that you be put on a medical leave of absence, I've prepared all the documentation, all that's left is to get it into the school and inform your professors to deliver your work to Nick and he will distribute it to you. I'm sorry," she stated earnestly. "I really am, but if this is going to work, they cannot know that you're carrying. No one can, and since you've been experiencing extreme symptoms to the pregnancy, I have no doubt your professors will believe that you have contracted a rare form of pneumonia."

I didn't like it, not one bit. However, I understood the need for the cover. It meant that I couldn't return to school. At least, I can't until after the baby is born. No one can know that I'm a mutant, if they did, I'd surely be kicked out. It's a miracle that Nick hadn't snitched on me.

Zoe turned toward the stairs and started on the first two, when the question struck me. It was a question I had been dying to ask ever since I arrived here. Perhaps she could answer it for me, Nick certainly couldn't.

"May I ask a question?" I asked softly.

She stopped on the third step before turning to face me. "Certainly," she answered. "What do you need to know?"

"Well, I've been having these vivid dreams," I started. "They're so intense, and nothing like my ordinary dreams. I was wondering if you could tell me if this was a normal part of male pregnancy?"

She stood there deep in thought for a moment or two before talking back to the side of my bed. Her eyes bore into mine, and I could only wonder if she had any clue at all. From the look in her eyes, I would say she didn't. She did tend to wear that, 'I'm sorry, I don't really know' expression quite freely.

"I wish I could tell you," she said softly combing her fingers through my long curls. "There's so little we know about male pregnancy. Maybe it would help if you could describe one of these dreams to me. Perhaps that will give me a better clue."

"They aren't really of anything, a flower, a bird, faces in a crowd, a rushing river, but they're so strong, powerful. When I have them, I feel warm, as if someone placed a blanket over me. I can feel my heart flutter and then pound powerfully against my chest. As though I am acutely aware of everything connected to my body. I can feel the life inside me. I feel it all around me, as though it were a beacon shining brightly, or an aura glowing around me. Each of these dreams I can see as vividly as I see you now. I've never had such vivid dreams before."

She continued to comb her fingers through my hair, her eyes were soft, and a smile tugged at her lips. I could tell she didn't know what to think of my dreams. I doubt anyone would be able to make sense of my dreams. Times like these, I wish my father had survived in this world. He could tell me if these dreams are normal or not. He could tell me if the growing life was producing them.

"I wish, I knew what to tell you, Greg," she said regretfully. "I want to say your unborn child is producing the dreams. I want to say this is all a part of a normal male pregnancy, but I can't. So very little is known about the processes a maternal male goes through when he's carrying. The ones who are aware, keep to themselves, and do not dare make their knowledge public. With all the government restrictions on your kind, it's amazing any of you can survive."

"If they are coming from my... unborn child..." I paused to collect my thoughts. More like, to think about how to phrase my question so it can make sense to her. "Why do you suppose we get them?"

"I don't know," she stated outright. An honest answer by all means, but not really what I want to hear. "They may not be coming from the child at all. Your blood work showed extremely elevated levels of hormones, and other chemicals commonly associated with pregnancy. They could explain your dreams. As to why you get them? This is only a guess, so there's nothing solid to base this assumption on."

She took me by the hand, and looked me in my eyes. It was amazing that she actually looked me in the eye. Outside of Nick, and Robbie, no other person had the decency to look me in the eye, and I didn't dare look them in the eye. I found this quite refreshing.

"I understand," I answered.

"I think these dreams that you are having is your body's way of creating a 'motherly' bond between you and your unborn child. The human male does not have a natural nurturing instinct. I think this might be how your body solves that problem."

It made about as much sense as anything else did. Not that I know much about my body. The only other question I have was how this thing was going to come out of me. I mean, I am born with a male body, with narrow hips, and I doubt an eight pound child will be able to fit between my hips. Now if I were a woman, there wouldn't be any question about how this will happen. However I'm certainly not a woman, not with the male equipment definitely hanging between my legs. Though, it's hard to say that I am a man, because I am with child.

"Is there something else you need?" Zoe asked as though reading my mind.

"I was wondering if you knew how this thing was going to come out of me... I mean, it can't stay in there forever."

"No, it certainly can't," she agreed with a chuckle. "When I was examining you, I found an area that was particularly sensitive, right below your belly button. The area felt hot to the touch, hotter than the surrounding areas. From what I have read from the bigoted studies published in the scientific journals over maternal males, write about an opening that develops during pregnancy to allow the growing baby to leave your womb. From everything that I've seen, I have no doubt these sources are correct. I am sure time will tell," she smiled. "Well, I best be off now, I hope I answered some of your questions."

"Yeah, thanks," I replied and watched as she left me alone with Mr. Sleepy.

I wish Nick would wake up. There are some things I would love to say to him and a kiss I would love to give him right there on his lips. He's been amazing to me this past month and I don't know where I'd be without him. I certainly would not be going to a sanctuary if Nick hadn't walked into my life. There are no words I can use to express my gratitude toward him. He took me from the scum of the universe and made me feel special.

Nick snored ever so softly into my chest and I combed my fingers through his well-groomed hair, and he turned his head over and continued sleeping.

I passed the time thinking about people who probably weren't worth the time of day, or the thought. My mind wandered to those vile bureaucrats down in Washington D.C. and the bill most of them want passed. Right now, it's caught up in the red tape and lack of votes. However, we all know it's a matter of time before one will pass forcing all the little monsters into confinement camps so all the normal people can go about their lives without having to think about us.

It's only a matter of time, and I know they're getting closer to passing one. I'll give it another year at the most. So, I spent the time, thinking about the best ways to smuggle myself out of the country. My living arrangements were already solidified. They had been for years now. If a confinement bill were to pass, I was supposed to get to England where a relative of Ryan would take me in. The problem I faced was how to get there.

Although, I have no doubt Nick will help me with that problem. However, I can't count on him. While, he's a great person, and honourable to his word, I cannot predict the future and I am unable to tell if he will be around when that bill passes. One thing I've known for a while is when it does pass I will have to act almost immediately and without regard to anything here. If I want to live that is the price I will have to pay.

For hours, I meticulously go through all my options, even the ones that seem too farfetched to actually work. Maybe things will work themselves out when the time actually arrives. Besides, it's nothing too important. The latest attempt just got pushed back just before I arrived here at Zoe's house.

Still I know, one day that bill will pass the congressional house, and will become the new law of the land. On that day will be the day us monsters die. We will fight, and we will die. My best hope is that I can hitch a ride on a cargo plane and get across the ocean that way. If Ryan were here, he'd tell me not to worry about the little details. He always did believe that those things will work themselves out when it is the right time.

I ignored that for the time being and spent some time thinking about it. While I was at it, I spent a bit of time thinking about normal people. Well, normal in regards to gender, male or female. For my entire life, I've never understood what it was about having both genders that was so bad. I couldn't understand it. Ryan once tried to explain it to me, but that left me more confused than ever. I just dropped the questions, but they never really went away.

Nick snored softly, jarring me momentarily from my thoughts. It's good that he's sleeping. I knew Zoe spoke the truth when she said he hadn't slept all the while I was out. I gently ran my fingers through his hair and continued on my inner most personal thoughts.

Why should it be that I am inferior to people of a single gender? I do not know and I doubt that I will ever know.

It wasn't until late afternoon by the time Nick woke from his slumber. Not that I minded the peace and quiet of Zoe's basement, but it was good to have some company again. He cracked open his beery eyes and gazed lovingly into my eyes. He has the most intense gaze and I love it. The way his brown eyes pierce right into your soul just makes my knees shake, my toes, curl, and sends shivers down my spine.

"Sorry about that," he blushed and wiped his drool off my arm and blankets. "I didn't mean to sleep on you."

"Good morning to you too, sleepy head," I teased him and took his hands. "I'm just glad you're awake." I smiled broadly at this amazing man. Sure, his hair was messed up and his eyes were bloodshot, but he was still just as beautiful as ever. Unable to help myself, I pulled the man closer to me and outright kissed him. Nick is the only person I've ever dared do this too and he responded appropriately. He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. In his arms I felt so safe and secure that I almost felt as though I could have the strength to face the world.

He panted as he pulled away. His eyes were glazed over with lust and his brow covered in a sheen of sweat. "You're an absolutely beautiful and amazing person," Nick whispered so sweetly into my ear. "Never forget that." He informed me. "No matter what happens, or how bad things get, never forget that you're an amazing beautiful person."

"I won't," I answered. His gaze was sad, almost as though his best friend was moving away. I hadn't told him that I will be going tomorrow, but maybe he already knows. Perhaps him and Zoe had talked about sending me away. One thing was for sure, it would be dangerous for me to return to school. A man takes a very unique form when he becomes pregnant, and there's no missing it. If I were caught carrying, I know the consequences of being caught. I know them probably better than anyone else out there.

"Did Zoe tell you that I will be leaving tomorrow?" I asked curious if he knew.

"We talked about it," he sighed. His eyes darted down to his hands and I could tell he really didn't want to say this to me. "I... wish you didn't have to go, but I understand it is in your best interests. I will talk to dad, I will try to get down there to see you as soon as I can, I promise."

His eyes were teary as he lifted his gaze off his hands and to my eyes. I could almost feel the feelings he has for me. They were so strong, so pure that I could almost touch them. They were that prevalent that I could almost reach my hand out and touch them. I didn't want to leave him, but I knew that I must.

Around seven, Zoe walked in with two hot trays filled with food. Nick thanked her and handed me one of the trays. The dinner was nothing fancy, just some macaroni and cheese, chicken fingers with honey mustard, and green beans. The entire time we ate, Zoe's little boy, Connor entertained us with a dance that he made up.

Once our meals were finished, Connor ran into Nick's arms who oomphed upon the impact of his young nephew. "Like unca Nicky?" he asked excited.

"You were fantastic," Nick replied. Seeing him interact with Connor really calmed some of my fears about this baby I have inside me. He was a natural with kids, the way he'd talk to them. It was amazing to me. Nick will be an excellent father. Now if only the child inside me were his. If there was anything I would change about this moment it would be that. The baby in my womb would be Nick's and not some jackass I don't even care about.

Connor looked upon me with those big brown eyes. Oh, once there was a time, when I looked upon the world with such love and joy. But that time has passed and the world turned to dust before my feet.

"Unca Nicky, can I ask you something?" he asked. It wasn't what he asked, but rather how he asked it that caught my attention. It was as though he wanted to ask a question that he knew he shouldn't but desperately wanted, or needed to know the answer to. "Why's Greg different? What makes him so different from me?"

To have the innocence of a child again, to see the world as they see it would be such a grand thing. I wish more people could see the world through Connor's eyes, a four-year-old little boy who doesn't see the difference between me and him. To him, we're exactly the same, flesh and blood. Why can't the rest of the world see it?

"I just am," I answered the little boy quietly.

"Why though?" he continued onward not understanding what makes me so fundamentally different from himself. "You have eyes like mine, and ears, a nose, a mouth and a chin like min, you even have to arms with ten fingers just like me, and your skin is white and creamy like mine, so why does mommy hide you away so people won't see. Why are you so different?"

I really don't think I could answer the boy. His questions were certainly valid, but I'm not sure I could answer him in a way that he would understand. I doubt that would actually be possible.

"I don't know," I finally gave him an answer I'm sure he could believe. He's a bit young to think about my unique physiology and understand what exactly that means. He's lucky though that he has the luxury not to share my unique aspects. "I suppose, people have a hard time accepting things they do not understand."

"But why?" he whined.

"Because, little squirt," Nick piped up. "Greg's special, and everyone wants what he has, that's why he's different. That's why they don't like him, because he has what they want, and that's why your mommy has to hide him away in here so they won't find him."

"Really?" his eyes lit up. "You mean it unca Nicky?"

"Yeah, now run along, Squirt or I'll tell your mom you've been hiding out down here."

His eyes nearly doubled in width, so they were nearly two large brown discs that looked like they were about to explode with fear. I could see that he wanted to doubt Nick's words, but he never opened his mouth to question the man. Instead, he darted up those stairs as fast as he could, leaving us to ourselves.

"Now, where were we?" Nick asked as he got up from his seat, crawled up on the bed, and took me into his arms.

"I think we were just about here," I pulled him close and took his lips with mine. For the moment, I knew that everything was going to be all right. No matter what tomorrow brought, right now was all that mattered, even if it would be short-lived.

To Be Continued...


	12. Holding On

Sacrifices  
An Evenstar Story

**Rated** NC-17 for oh so many reasons.  
**Disclaimer** I do not own any of the CBS characters. I am simply borrowing them for this intricate web of lies. --  
Chapter Twelve:  
Holding On  
--

**(September 21, 1988 13 Years Of Age)  
Nick Stokes's point of view**  
Zoe Townsend's House

**Nick**

How could I get so lucky? I mean, look at him, he's perfect. He's the most amazing person I've ever seen and he's laying sound asleep in my arms. I should've gone to bed hours ago, but I couldn't make myself go just yet. In just a few hours from now, Zoe will walk through that door, and will take Greg away from me until he's had his baby. I know he'll be in good hands. Hell, she'll even be going with him to the sanctuary. I will still worry about him though. I've gotten so used to having him around in this last month. It's going to take me some time to get used to him being gone.

I hold him in my arms tightly unable or unwilling to let him go. I placed my lips over his forehead and kiss him softly. He's such a wonderful person, and an amazing individual. It's too bad the rest of the world cannot see what I see in him. If it weren't for the fact that he's a maternal, he would probably be some recognized scientist by now. There is no doubting his genius.

The grandfather clock chimed the hour above, and I tighten my embrace on the man that I love. The hours tick away and all I can think is that this is one less hour I will get to spend with this wonderful man.

I really had no idea that my father ran a sanctuary. He's always been so vocal against the maternals. Hell, I've heard him call them about every disgraceful name in the dictionary. I guess it's true, you never really know someone until they choose to show you, not even your parents. God I wish I knew sooner.

There's a part of me that wonders why he didn't tell me. I already knew the answer though. He really couldn't tell me anything about it. Even though I was his son, he couldn't take the risk to let me know. It's no secret that the government pays large rewards for any information regarding these sanctuaries. They want nothing more than to prosecute the people running these hidden camps.

I would like to think that my father could trust me, but I'm aware of the reason why he can't. He hasn't an idea on where my loyalties lie. If only he knew for sure that I was loyal to the cause, to his cause. That I wasn't going to rat out my own father and the sanctuary he runs.

Another hour has come and gone and now, the grandfather clock chimed six in the morning. The basement door swung open and Zoe stepped quietly down the stairs.

"I had a feeling you'd be awake," Zoe spoke softly. "How's he doing?"

"He's sleeping," I answered softly. "He's not much of a morning person, so I expect him to sleep for a bit longer."

I could tell from her eyes that our time together was quickly coming to an end. Her hand rested on my shoulder as she informed me they'll be leaving in thirty minutes. I doubt that Greg will be awake by that time, so I decided to write him a letter.

_My dearest Greg,_

I know we never got the chance to say goodbye. I just wanted you to know that you're not alone. No matter where you are, or what you are doing, I will always be standing by your side. I care for you greatly. So greatly, that I think I might even be falling in love with you. I know it's early in our relationship, perhaps too early to declare such affection toward you, or you to I, but these feelings that I have for you are so strong, and so pure that I couldn't imagine them being anything other than love. Even though we never got the chance to have a proper goodbye, I wanted you to know that I will always be thinking about you while you're away. I don't know what I will do now that I have the room all to myself. In the past month, I've grown so fond of you that it's hard to think about you not being there. I don't want to let you go, but I'm big enough and man enough to see that this is the right course of action for you. I don't know how to deliver a child. That's not the kind of help you need. You need someone who can help you through this, who knows what they're doing and someone who will protect you and look after you while you go through so many changes. Yet, there's this selfish part of me that just wants to take you in my arms and never let you go. It hurts so much that I will be driving my car back to campus and you won't be going with me. Do not think this is easy for me to see you go, because it's not. Ever since the day we learned you were pregnant, I've come to fear and dread this day. While I have this selfish need, I also realize the importance of this for you. Even though I want to keep you safe in my arms, I understand that I cannot help you through this other than by supporting you and your decisions. You should know that whatever decision you make, I will stand by your side. I care for you too deeply and too much to let you just slip away because my views on things are different from yours. I cannot pretend to know what situations you are facing. I don't know what it's like to raise a child born from the coupling of two men. I don't know what that is like and while I hope you choose to go down one path, I cannot hold it against you if you choose to go down another. After all, you know more about the road than I could ever hope to know and I'm thankful that I don't know.

I will write to you every day if you ask it of me. I will tell you all the mundane things that happen in my life right down to what clothes I am wearing and what I have for breakfast. I will write even when there's nothing good to write about or nothing important to say, because I still feel this need to be with you, to comfort and hold you tight.

I've talked with your professors and they have agreed to a mail correspondence for your classes. I've explained your situation to them. Of course, they think you have some kind of lung ailment. I'm not stupid enough to tell them you're maternal with child. Maybe I should have though. Maybe then one of them would look at your kind differently, to see that you can be just as good, just as smart as they are. They, they might be able to see the injustice in the world and understand that you're just as good, just as human as they are. I want to say that, but I know that I can't. It's for your protection after all, and I can't jeopardize your safety to rub it into their crooked noses.

Write to me, please, tell me about what you're going through. Keep me in the loop, even if it's stupid little nonsensical stuff or even trivial problems that are normal. I want to know. You mean so much to me that I find myself needing to know. I hope you understand.

I want to see you, to take your hand and walk side by side with my pregnant boyfriend. I want to show you to the world and show them how beautiful you are. How special you are. I know that I can't, but I want the whole world to know that I have a special beautiful boyfriend who means the world to me.

I don't want to let you go. I fear that if I do that I will never see you again. I don't know if I can live with that. I care for you too much, spent a little too much time in the grace of your presence. I've touched the fire and the passion that surrounds you and I can't leave it alone, I can't get enough. It's like a fix I've been jonesin' for.

Zoe will talk to my father, and get him to listen to me. I would write him or call him myself, but he's never been the open trusting kind of man. He's sceptical and distrusting of society and especially of his own kin. His fears are well founded, for we are the closet to him and it is us that can hurt him the most. Maybe, he will listen to me, to you, to Zoe, and see how much I care for you. Maybe he could see how deep my feelings for you are. I wish I could explain it, but I just don't think there are enough words in the English language to put them onto paper. I wish I could say that me and my father were on good speaking terms, but we aren't. He's never really talked to me ever since he found out that I prefer the companionship of men. At the time I just thought he detested homosexuality. Now, I'm not so sure. Maybe I disappointed him, because I want something that is tabooed in our society. Maybe he feared that I wouldn't be strong enough to handle the consequences of my actions. I don't know. All I can hope is that he listens to me now. I would love to spend a few stolen moments with you to hold you tight and secure. I just want the chance to love you Greg. You may not feel like you deserve love, but you really do. You are such an amazing person and in time I know the world will see it the way I do.

I have run out of time at last to write this letter. Zoe is standing at the top of the stairs looking at me with those eyes, but I just can't seem to put this pencil down. So, I hope that I will see you again. I hope dad will allow me to visit you during the holidays. My hopes aren't too high, but you never know maybe my dad will let me see you after all. I hope everything goes well with your pregnancy. Please, write to me as often as you can. I will be awaiting your reply. God, you are so beautiful. Never forget that.

I will miss you, but I know this is for the best.

Always by your side,  
Your dearest friend,  
Nick

I have no doubt that Zoe will take good care of Greg. She has a kind soul and a gentle heart. I know she wouldn't let anything bad happen to this precious man in my arms. Thirty minutes came and went and Zoe stood beside the bed one more time.

"It's time," she stated quietly. Her eyes were sad as she stood there beside the bed. Slowly, I rolled out, careful not to wake my sleeping boyfriend. I give him one last kiss on the temple before turning my attention to my cousin.

"Take good care of him."

"I will," she promised.

"Make sure he gets this when he wakes up," I handed her the letter.

"I will see to it," she replied. "I'll talk to your dad. I don't know if he'll let you see Greg, but it's better than nothing."

Unable to find the strength to answer her, I nodded my head ever so slightly. I just stood there out of the way as she lifted Greg from the bed and took him firmly into her arms. Tears rolled down my cheeks as she took Greg's dangling body up the stairs. I ran to follow her as she walked out the front door and placed the man I love into the passenger side of her car.

Every fibre of my being wanted to run out that door and drop to my knees and take that man into my arms and kiss the living day lights out of him just one more time. Even though I wanted it more than anything, I didn't dare leave the house. After all, what would the neighbours think if they saw me out there crying my eyes out for this man as Zoe drove him away? Would they see the love I feel for this man?

Zoe shut the door, and walked to the other side of the car. It all seemed to happen in slow motion as she looked at me, straight in the eyes, as to tell me that everything would be all right. I wanted to believe her. I needed to believe her. I know she hasn't lied to me, but there's a part of me that wonders if this will be the last time I will see this amazing man. I try not to think like that. I will see him again. That's what I have to believe.

"You'll see him again," Dylan said softly, his hand rested over my shoulder. "Greg's a strong boy. He'll make it through this."

"I know," I answered weakly. I have faith that Greg can handle the obstacles that face him. I just don't trust the world to leave him alone while he faces them. Every day the senators come one step closer to the confinement bill at their finger tips. Every session, they get closer to passing it into law and then every maternal caught would be forced to go to those dreaded camps. I worry about that day. So far as a national standard they remain more or less free. There are some states that already have confinement bills in place. If they cross into one of those states, and Greg's caught, I worry about what might become of him. The only hope I have is if he writes me as soon as he can to ease me of my concerns.

Time is my worst enemy at the moment. There's nothing but time that stands between me and Greg. It would take nothing short of time before Cisco would let me see Greg at his sanctuary. In time, I will see Greg again. All I can hope is that he stays strong in the time we are forced to stay apart.

**Greg**

When I opened my eyes, I expected to be safe and secure inside Nick's loving embrace. But I found my body somewhat chilled and Nick nowhere in sight. I gaze out the window, to find the world quickly passing me by. Zoe's at the wheel, driving silently. I shut my eyes, to hold back the tears I want to cry. My heart aches for his touch. For the gentle feel of his lips pressed against my temple. Last night, I slept in his arms, and I've never known such peaceful slumber. My dreams were pleasant within his embrace. I felt so secure under his gaze and I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Now I wake to find him left behind and I'm on my way to the sanctuary. What hurt the most was the fact I never got the chance to say goodbye, to kiss him one last time.

"Good morning sleepy head," Zoe tasselled my hair. "I'm sorry for our quick departure. Nick wanted to say goodbye, but he wasn't able to wake you. He hadn't the heart."

"I wished he had," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. I wish Nick had managed to wake me. For I desire to feel him against me just one more time.

"I know sweetie," she said softly. "I know." I watched as she continued to drive down the highway. As we travelled, I couldn't recall a time where I felt more alone in my life. Even after Ryan died, I had people around me. Now, without Nick by my side, I feel alone.

"He asked me to give you this," she handed me a white envelope. It was a letter from Nick. I took my time opening Nick's letter. I wanted to savour this moment for a while. The courage finally gathered, I opened the letter and read Nick's love-felt words. Tears dripped from my eyes as I read his words. The love he has for me poured over the page and I could tell he feared that we would never be able to see each other again.

I understood his fear. Travelling for a maternal was dangerous. It puts us in a very vulnerable position. We are especially vulnerable when we travel because we do not know the area as well, and we haven't a place to hide, or people we know and trust around us. The more time we spend in a confinement state, the more likely we are to be caught. That is why driving is so dangerous for us. They wait for us at the truck stops, at gas stations and at restaurants. They expose our arms and then hall our asses away. The bus companies won't even allow us to board their busses. Flying is out, they will check your arm at the gate and if you are found to be a maternal, they'll hall you away and beat you until bloody. Or so I've heard from others. I haven't attempted to fly on a commercial jetliner, so I wouldn't know what the consequences would be.

They have restricted our ability to travel so much, that we're almost sitting ducks. That's what they want. They don't want us going anywhere. They'd rather have us unable to travel so they can pick us up one by one and haul us away to one of those confinement camps.

While the nation has been unsuccessful at creating a national confinement bill, several states have already passed laws that allow them to place us in these work camps. They separate us from the rest of society, to keep the tainted blood from infecting those who are healthy. If there were one place on this planet I didn't want to go, those confinement camps would be them. I've heard absolute horror stories from the happenings within their walls. I wouldn't want to know what would become of me if I were placed inside one of those dreaded places. One thing is for sure, I wasn't eager to find out if they really did public mutilations and experimented on us as though we were no better than guinea pigs.

Zoe was smart though, and I trusted her not to get me caught even in a state where the confinement bills were active. We stayed mostly to the side roads and only stopped when necessary for restroom breaks or to refill the car with gas.

I watched out the window as the world passed me by. Every mile marker we pass is another mile away from the man I love. I wish I got the chance to tell him that I love him, but I guess that will have to wait. All I want to do is call him up and tell him how I feel about him. My heart ached for his touch, for his embrace, and for his presence. I miss the way I felt so sound and secure when he's around. Without him, I feel so alone and vulnerable as though anyone could reach their hand out and snatch me by the scruff of my neck.

We pulled into a small grocery store, where we could buy some more food and a place where I could go use the restroom. We walk toward the door. There were two people tailing us, so I opened the door for Zoe, and held it for the two men. They both looked at me curiously, and I could tell from the badges they displayed prominently on their chests that they were bounty hunters.

"Thank you young man," the taller of the two bounties praised me.

"You're welcome," I replied politely. I hoped that they couldn't detect that I was a pregnant maternal. I stood there calmly. I acted as though I belonged there that I was a normal. I never even lowered my gaze to the bounties. The taller one smiled to me briefly before turning to Zoe.

"You have a delightful son," he smiled.

"Thank you," she replied not bothering to correct him. She took me by the hand, maybe to solidify the deal and we walked through the store, much as a mother/son duo.

"It's a good thing you're so polite," she whispered in my ear. If they had sensed that I was a maternal, their sense of gratitude concealed it from their eyes.

We wasted no time in the store. We couldn't not with the two bounties roaming around. What if they opened their eyes and really saw me? This is a state that has a confinement law in place. I strolled down the aisles after my bathroom business was taken care of looking for some random necessities. The only things I really needed was a notebook, some pencils and some envelops. Nick will want me to stay in touch. I know he loves me. It's clear from the way he looks at me that he loves me so dearly and tenderly. I know I haven't said it to him. I've been so afraid of what it could mean if those three magical words left my lips.

Oh how I wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss him just one more time. Maybe I could forget about my situation. Maybe I could pretend for just one moment more that it's his baby growing in my womb than that bounty who raped me on my father's order. The images are still blurred in my head, but it is clearing in my head. The more they clear, the more I see my father standing at the door watching as the man raped me. I try not to think about it as I walked through the aisles of the store. After all, those bounties don't know who I am and the last thing I want them to do is find out my little secret.

When I found what I was looking for, I went to the head of the store to wait for Zoe. She shouldn't be too long. She just needed some supplies and to relieve herself in the ladies room as well.

"Where are you from?" the shorter of the bounties asked me.

"California," I replied honestly. I figured it would be best to answer some things honestly. That way I wouldn't have to remember what exactly I said to the man who would wish ill upon me.

"You're a little far from home, doncha think?"

"Well, you see, it's like this. My mom is a great woman, very kind and loving, but she has horrible tastes in men. She tends to find those who like to abuse their woman. My father was like that," I said absentmindedly. "When he started beating me, that's when she drew the line in the sand so to speak and that night we left for Boston. Things didn't work out with her job though, so we're on the move again." I answered. It wasn't the truth, but I really couldn't tell a bounty, 'Hey I'm a maternal, I'm going to Texas because my jerk of a father had me impregnated and I'm off to some sanctuary.' Well, I could, but the very next place I would be seeing would be the insides of a containment camp.

"Well I hope things work out for you and your mother," the bounty smiled and went about his business.

"What was that about?" Zoe asked as she stepped up to the counter.

"They just wanted to know a few things," I replied and slid my items to the cashier.

"I hope for your sake that you didn't expose yourself."

"I didn't, they think you have lousy tastes in men," I assured her.

We left the store and climbed back into our car. I could see the taller of the two bounties in his car running our information. It doesn't matter if what they found was true or not, by the time they realize what we told them we'll be long gone. "Let's get out of here," I said to Zoe.

The rest of our trip to Texas was fairly uneventful. Mostly, we passed mile marquees. It was nothing to write home about. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. When things get quiet my mind automatically drifted to Nick. Sometimes, I wish he'd let me have one moment of peace, but my mind won't stop thinking about him. He's constantly there, and it makes me feel as though I'm not as alone as I thought.

It was late in the afternoon when we arrived in the small East Texas town. We passed the time sitting in a small family-owned restaurant that allowed the admittance of maternals. We sat in a small booth in the place quietly discussing nonsensical topics until the hour was right. When the sun dipped below the western horizon we left the place.

"Here put this on," she handed me a black cloak. I did not hesitate to place the garment over my shoulders and followed her down into the thickening pine trees. The trail was rough filled with old tree roots standing up from the ground. We walked in silence and in the cover of darkness to this secret meeting spot where they will take me into their encampment.

In the deep of the thicket, was a clearing. The night was dark as we stood there waiting for our escort. It was around midnight before they arrived, too cloaked in black. Not a word was exchanged between us. We both knew why we were here and we followed them out of the wood and to a nondescript car parked at the far end of a children's playground. We climbed inside and the car and watched as they took us deeper and deeper into some of the most remote areas possible.

"I hope your trip went well," said the man in the centre. "I'm sorry for all the cloaks and shadows, but it's best if no one knows about our happenings."

I understood. The world isn't ready to acknowledge us as human beings born with an equal right to exist as the normal people exist. It's sad that they're not ready to take that step or to see us as their equals. I hope that day comes, but I doubt that I'll see that day any time soon. I wish it weren't like that, but I'm not the one to make that call.

"There are a few rules," he stated.

"All right," I replied.

"First, all visitors must be approved by the administration... Second, letters will be strictly monitored. If you want to send mail, you will have a P.O. Box assigned at a neighbouring town your mail will be retrieved from that box and sent to you by one of our people. Your content will be monitored, to make sure that no recognizable descriptions of the sanctuary, location information, or any other clues that might reveal our location to the general public. After all, we can never be sure that our eyes and the ones intended are the only eyes that read our letters. We want to isolate ourselves as much as possible from the outside world... Third, residents are permitted to leave the encampment once a week until they are deemed showing by the administrators. These rules are for your protection as well as ours. We're breaking some major laws harbouring you all and we'd like to be forgotten by the bounty hunters... Do you understand and accept these rules?"

"Yes," I answered.

"The rules of the house are simple. Residents are requested to keep their areas clean, their beds tucked, and their clothes laundered and folded. We request that all residents stay inside after dark and be in their rooms at curfew. Every resident will have a house chore they are responsible for. If you do not like your chore, you could always exchange with one of the other residents. Each resident will also have a job to do. These jobs will be catered to your own interests and desires. All residents will be required to undergo weekly check-ups. There will be no exceptions. Do you agree to these conditions?"

"I do," I answered.

"Then, welcome to the sanctuary," he said just as the car came to a stop. The place was a massive old antebellum plantation style house. The man showed us in and showed Zoe to her room first. She would be located in the doctor's corridor. "I hope you have a wonderful night," he bid Zoe and the door was shut.

"Follow me," he instructed. I did so without question.

He led me through the luxurious hallways painted in a lovely caramel brown. My eyes focused on the masterpieces hung from the walls of all the great masters. There was even a good replica of Leonardo Da Vinci's Mona Lisa. He took me across the grand staircase and behind it, where a small room was located.

"The doctor will be with you shortly," the host informed and left me to the silence.

Not but two minutes later an elderly man walked through the room and took a seat. "On the bed please."

I did as I was told and sat still as he checked me over.

"Well, everything seems to be in order. I give you my bill of clean health," he stood from his stool and left me alone in the room. I wasn't alone more than a minute before the hostess entered and instructed me again to follow him. He took me up the grand staircase. It seemed as though the stairs would never end. He took me to the second floor, to the third, and then to a doorway. Behind the door was yet another set of stairs. "This will be your room for your duration here. I hope you have a good night."

I gripped my bags just a little bit tighter and slowly walk up the stairs. The room was at the top of the house surrounded by windows on all four sides. I could see the tops of the trees any direction I happened to look. To the far end of the room was a top bunk bed empty. That must be my bunk. I slid my bag under the bottom bunk and climbed into the top. There was no sleep for me that night. No comfort for my lonesome heart. I looked out the window to the direction I assumed was north. I will know more in the morning. For now, I looked in the direction and imagined that Nick was right outside looking back at me. That's my hope at least.

Morning came swiftly with the birds chirping to the gentle breezes that blow through their boughs. My roommates sat in their beds and rubbed the sleep out of their eyes. They climbed out of their beds and got dressed. Some of them were obviously pregnant. One of them looked as though they could give birth to it at any moment. I feared for him. Giving birth to the thing that grows inside me scares me more than anything. I've never seen a male birth before. Ryan always kept me away from the men in labour.

Most of them were older than me. However, I can see from the pain in their eyes that their story wasn't any different than mine.

"Well hello there," one of the older men acknowledged me. "I don't think we've met, I'm Lance." He offered his hand freely and I could see the mark clearly on his wrist.

"Greg," I replied and accepted the hand baring my mark to him. My story was written from the look in my eyes. Lance didn't have to ask why I was there, or why any of us were there. I was pregnant, as were all these men around me. Most of them like myself were raped. We all have the same story here, just different verses.

"Come, join us in the great hall for breakfast, I know the others would love to meet you."

I climbed from my bunk and pulled on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready," I replied. I walked down those stairs and into the great hall ready all right. I was ready for anything that the world could throw at me. Because I knew I could outlast, and outlive them. 

* * *

To Be Continued...


End file.
